ityles  of  architecture,  more  exquisite  adorn- 
nents,  sweeter  music,  grander  pictures,  more 
correct  behavior  and  more  thorough  ladies 
md  gentlemen. 

But  there  is  another  story  to  be  told. 
Wrong  fashion  is  to  be  charged  with  many 
)f  the  worst  evils  of  society,  and  its  path  has 
)ften  been  strewn  with  the  bodies  of  tho 
;lain.  It  has  often  set  up  a  false  standard  by 
-vhich  people  are  to  be  judged.  Our  common 
sense,  as  well  as  all  the  divine  intimations  on 
he  subject,  teach  us  that  people  ought  to  be 
wteemed  according  to  their  individual  and 
noral  attainments.  The  man  who  has  the 
nost  nobility  of  soul  should  be  first,  and  he 
who  has  tho  least  of  such  qualities  should 
stand  last.  INO  crest,  or  ehield,  or  escutcheon 
?an  indicate  one's  moral  peerage.  Titles  of 
luke,  lord,  esquire,  earl,  viscount  or  patrician 
3Ught  not  to  raise  one  into  tho  first  rank. 
Some  of  the  meanest  men  I  have  ever 
mown  had  at  the  end  of  their  name 
D.D.,  LL.  D.  and  F.  R.  S.  Truth,  honor, 
;hai*ity,  heroism,  self  sacrifice  should  win 
lighest  favor :  but  inordinate  fashion  says: 
'Count  not  a  woman's  virtues;  count  her 
.dornmeuts.'"  "Look  not  at  the  contour  of 
he  head,  but  see  the  way  she  combs  her 
iahv'  "Ask  not  what  noble  deeds  have 
jeeii  accomplished  by  that  man's  hand;  but 
s  it  white  and  soft?"  Ask  not  what  good 
sense  is  ber  conversation,  but  "In  what  was 
she  dressed T'  Ask  not  whether  there  w*« 
jospitality  and  cheerfulness  in  the  house,  but 
'In  what  style  do  they  livef ' 
A, —  m cr»mp  of  the  most,  itm  <•»•»•- 


crack  of  the  voluptuary's  pistol,  putting  an 
end  to  his  earthly  misery,  I  hear  the  confir 
mation  that  in  a  hollow  fastidious  life  there 
is  no  peace. 

Again :  Devotion  to  wrong  fashion  is  pro 
ductive  of  physical  disease,  mental  imbecil 
ity  and  spiritual  withering.  Apparel  insuffi 
cient  to  keep  out  the  cold  and  the  rain,  or  so 
fitted  upon  the  person  that  the  functions  of 
life  are  restrained;  late  hours  filled  with  ex 
citement  and  feasting;  free  draf ts  of  wine 
that  make  one  not  beastly  intoxicated,  but 
only  fashionably  drunk,  and  luxurious  indo 
lence — are  the  instruments  by  which  this 
unreal  life  pushes  its  disciples  into  valetudi 
narianism  and  the  grave.  Along  the  walks 
of  prosperous  life  death  goes  a-mowing — and 
such  harvests  as  arc  reaped!  Materia  medica 
has  been  exhausted  to  find  curatives  for  these 
physiological  devastations.  Dropsies,  can 
cers,  consumptions,  gout  and  almost  every 
infirmity  in  all  the  realm  of  pathology  hav« 
been  the  penalties  paid.  To  counteract  the 
damage  pharmacy  has  gone  forth  with  me 
dicament,  panacea,  elixir,  embrocation,  salve 
and  cataplasm. 

To-night  with  swollen  feet  upon  cushioned 
ottoman,  and  groaning  with  aches  innumer 
able,  will  b$  the  votary  of  luxurious  living, 
not  half  so  happy  as  his  groom  or  coal  heaver. 
Wrong  fashion  is  tho  world's  undertaker,  and 
drives  thousands  of  hearses  to  Greenwood 
and  Laurel  Hill  and  Mount  Auburn. 

But,  worse  than  that,  this  folly  is  an  intel 
lectual  depletion.  This  endless  study  of 
proprieties  and  etiquette,  patterns  and  styles, 
s  bedwarfing  to  the  intellect.  I  never  knew 
i  woman  or  a  man  of  extreme  fashion  that 
;new  'much.  How  belittling  the  study  of 
ho  cut  of  a  coat,  or  the  tie  of  a  cravat,  or 
ho  wrinkle  in  a  sleeve,  or  the  color  of  a  rib- 
)on!  Plow  they  are  worried  if  something  j 
jets  untied,  or  hangs  awry,  or  is  not  nicely  j 
idjusted!  With  a  mind  capable  of  measuring  j 
;he  height  and  depth  of  great  subjects:  able 
:o  unravel  mysteries,  to  walk  through  the 
miverse,  to  soar  up  into  the  infinity  of  God's 
ittributes— hovering  perpetually  over  a  new 
tylo  of  cloak!  I  have  known  meu  reckless 
is  to  their  character  and  regardless  of  inter 
ests  momentous  and  eternal,  exasperated  by 
;he  shape  of  a  vest  button.  What  is  tho 
natter  with  that  woman  wrought  up  into 
;he  agony  of  despair?  Oh,  her  muff  is  out  of 
'ashion  1 

Worse  than  all — this  folly  is  not  satisfied 
intil  it  has  extirpated  every  moral  sentiment 
md  blasted  the  soul.  A  wardrobe  is  tho  rock 
ipon  which  many  a  soul  has  been  riven.  The 
jxcitement  of  a  luxurious  life  has  been  tho 
'ortex  that  has  swallowed  up  more  souls  than 
he  Maelstrom  off  Norway  ever  destroyed 
hips.  AVhat  room  for  elevating  themes  in  a 


' 


A    JOURNEY 


FROM   THE 


ATLANTIC  TO  THE  PACIFIC  COAST 


BY   WAT    OP 


SALT  LAKE   CITY 


RETURNING   BY   WAY    OF 


THE    SOUTHERN   ROUTE, 


DESCRIBING    THE    NATURAL    AND    ARTIFICIAL    SCENES    OF 

BOTH  LINES. 


BY 

L.     D.     LUKE. 

PRICE,  25  CENTS. 


UTICA,  N.  Y. 
ELLIS  H.  ROBERTS  &  Co.,  BOOK  AND  JOB  PRINTBRS. 

1884. 


A  JOURNEY  FROM  THE  ATLANTIC  TO  THE 
PACIFIC  COAST. 


An  account  of  New  York  alone  would  furnish  sufficient  matter 
to  fill  a  volume,  but  as  all  my  readers  are  conversant  with  its 
history,  I  pass  along  through  this  rich  and  fertile  State,  and  make 
no  sto'p  until  arriving  at  Utica,  where  I  purchased  a  first  class  un 
limited  ticket  to  San  Francisco,  California,  for  $129.39,  September 
17th,  1883.  At  6.40  p.  M.,  I  took  the  cars  on  the  New  York 
Central,  and  crossed  the  bridge  at  Buffalo  into  Canada  at  1  A.  M. 
Tuesday  morning,  and  arrived  at  St.  Thomas  on  the  Canada 
Southern  Railroad  at  daylight. 

This  country  is  not  inviting,  the  land  is  low  and  wet,  and  no 
good  buildings  are  seen.  It  is  well  timbered  with  elm,  ash,  and 
sycamore.  It  produces  wheat,  oats,  and  grass.  Before  reaching 
Detroit  the  Custom  Officer  stamped  our  baggage.  The  cars  were 
run  on  to  a  boat  and  ferried  across  to  the  city  at  10  A.  M., — 261 
miles  from  Buffalo. 

I  can  not  pass  this  city,  so  rich  in  ancient  lore,  without  a  few- 
remarks.  It  was  visited  in  the  sixteenth  century.  In  1701  Fort 
Ponchartrain  was  built  by  the  French,  who  held  the  territory  fifty- 
nine  years,  until  1160,  when  it  was  transferred  to  the  English.  In 
1796  it  was  ceded  to  the  United  States,  and  incorporated  as  a  town- 
in  1802,  and  burned  in  1805.  In  the  war  of  1812  it  was  again 
taken  by  the  English,  who  held  it  one  year.  It  received  its  first 
city  charter  in  1815,  and  was  the  residence  of  General  Grant  from 
1846  to  1850.  Located  as  it  is  on  the  route  of  all  vessels  to  the 
upper  lakes,  and  its  railroad  facilities,  it  has  become  a  rich, 
flourishing  and  popular  city,  of  125,000  inhabitants,  which  double 
in  every  decade. 

Its  manufactures  are  various,  among  which  we  notice  cars,  pins, 
matches,  organs,  stoves,  shoes,  safes,  &c.  Its  streets  are  regularly 
laid  out,  wide  and  airy. 

The  buildings  are  extremely  fine,  among  which  we  notice  the 
City  Hall,  90  by  120  feet  on  the  ground,  and  200  feet  high;  con 
taining  the  largest  clock  in  the  world  save  one.  The  building  and 
grounds  cost  $600,000. 

The  Opera  House,  Merchants'  Exchange,  Odd  Fellows'  Hall,  High 
School,  and  Public  Library,  are  all  large,  costly  edifices.  The 
Library  contains  40,000  volumes  for  public  beneficence.  The  city 
supports  many  benevolent  institutions  also. 

I  received  the  hospitality  of  Brother  Lorenzo  Sellick,  and  tarried 
till  the  next  day,  Wednesday,  19th,  at  10  A.  M.  I  then  left  Detroit 
on  the  Michigan  Central  Railroad — in  Michigan.  From  here  to 
Upsilanti,  thirty  miles,  is  a  beautiful  farming  country.  Farther  on 
we  passed  through  Kalamazoo,  of  12,000  inhabitants,  which  lies  in 
a  good  farming  country  also. 


After  passing  the  high  bridge  at  Niles,  we  soon  came  to 
Michigan  City,  near  the  lake — that  great  lumber  market — arriving 
at  Chicago  at  8  p.  M.,  540  miles  west  of  Buffalo.  The  conductor 
gave  me  a  pass  to  the  Union  Depot,  which  the  baggage  master 
exchanged  for  an  omnibus  ticket  that  carried  me  to  the  wrong 
station.  Changing  to  another  'bus  I  was  soon  at  the  right  point, 
where  a  man,  showing  his  badge,  said,  "I  will  conduct  you  to  the 
right  car,  that  is  my  business." 

Yet,  to  my  surprise,  he  led  me  directly  across  the  street,  and 
offered  me  a  seat  at  the  supper  table  first.  Kindly  thanking  him 
for  his  benevolence,  I  sought  my  own  car. 

Since  the  fire  Chicago  has  been  rebuilt  in  a  more  beautiful  and 
substantial  manner  than  before. 

I  left  the  city  at  10  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  passed  over  most 
of  the  level,  rich  and  fertile  prairie  lands  of  the  State  of  Illinois  in 
the  night,  on  the  Chicago,  Burlington  and  Quincy  Railroad. 

At  7  o'clock  Thursday  morning,  September  20th,  we  crossed 
over  the  Mississippi  River  on  a  long  iron  bridge  at  Burlington 
into  Southern  Iowa — 752  miles  from  Buffalo. 

We  soon  passed  on  again  over  the  rich  productive  prairies,  that 
seem  to  have  no  end,  and  crossed  the  Des  Moines  River  at 
Ottumwa,  yet  on,  and  still  on  to  Creston,  the  end  of  the  division — 
942  miles  west  of  Buffalo.  From  Creston  to  the  western  bounds 
of  the  State  the  country  is  not  much  settled,  and  grass  covered 
prairie  continues  all  the  way.  The  rich  soil  of  Iowa  produces  all 
the  cereals,  grains,  vegetables,  and  roots,  in  great  abundance,  com 
mon  to  the  Temperate  Zone  and  many  of  the  fruits.  Wood  is 
scarce,  but  coal  is  abundant. 

It  is  mined  to  a  great  extent  at  Tyrone,  and  new  mines  are  being 
opened  at  Russell,  at  a  depth  from  150  to  300  feet,  with  strata 
from  3  to  7  feet. 

Those  at  Lucas,  in  Lucas  County,  are  the  best  in  the  State. 
Waste  coal  by  the  way-side  was  burning  by  spontaneous  com 
bustion  at  the  Cleveland  mines. 

The  first  timber  discovered  was  on  the  valley  of  the  Missouri 
River,  and  that  very  scattering,  and  of  a  stinted  growth.  The 
valley  is  from  five  to  ten  miles  wide,  and  places  are  crowned  with 
high  bluffs. 

The  Platte  River  forms  a  junction  with  the  Missouri  River  at 
Plattsmouth,  where  we  crossed  the  long  steel  bridge,  852  miles 
from  Buffalo,  connecting  the  State  of  Iowa  with  the  State  of 
Nebraska.  It  comprises  two  span,  480  feet  each,  approached  by  a 
trestle  three-quarters  of  a  mile  long,  and  cost  more  than  a  million 
of  dollars. 

I  put  up  at  the  Perkins  House,  Plattsmouth,  Nebraska,  The 
town  has  the  railroad  shops,  and  nestles  in  a  little  valley. 

From  the  cliffs  above  is  an  extensive  view  of  the  surroundings. 
Leaving  Plattsmouth  Friday,  September  21st,  on  the  Burlington 
and  Missouri  River  Railroad,  in  Nebraska,  known  as  the  Great 
Burlington  Route.  Our  course  followed  the  valley  of  the  Platte, 


twenty-five  miles  to  Ashland,  where  we  struck  the  South  Fork, 
then  turning  southwest,  and  followed  up  the  valley  of  that  river 
fifty  miles  to  Lincoln,  the  capital  of  the  State,  where  eight  lines  of 
railroads  form  a  junction.  All  the  extravagant  stories  that  have 
been  told  of  the  richness,  fertility  and  beauty  of  the  farming  lands 
in  the  Platte  Valley  have  not  been  exaggerated.  Truly,  indeed, 
one  must  really  see  them  to  appreciate  their  loveliness  and  worth. 
No  young  man  going  west  for  land  should  stop  short  of  Nebraska. 
Although  all  the  cereals  and  vegetables  are  raised,  yet  corn  is 
king.  Field  after  field  stretch  on  along  our  line,  and  seem  to  have 
no  end,  while  in  the  distant  horizon  the  open  prairie  rolls  away, 
inviting  new  industry  to  till  the  soil.  I  was  told  that  when  the 
lands  were  once  broken,  a  team  of  six  horses  with  a  screw  pul 
verizer  would  fit  fifteen  acres  in  one  day,  being  followed  by  a  wood 
drag,  it  was  ready  for  the  seed.  One  team  would  easily  plant 
fifteen  acres  per  day.  Fifty  bushels  is  a  day's  work  husking;  it  is 
put  into  cribs  holding  from  six  to  750  bushels  each ;  5,000 
bushels  in  one  year  on  a  farm  of  120  acres  is  no  uncommon  yield. 
From  six  to  eight  horses  are  used  on  the  shellers,  which  shell  it  off 
as  fast  as  two  men  can  shovel  in,  stripping  off  from  1,400  to  1,500 
bushels  per  day.  They  have  no  fences — the  stock  is  herded  by 
cow  boys,  who  have  one  dollar  per  head  during  the  season. 

Lincoln  is  a  railroad  centre,  where  five  lines  meet,  a  smart  little 
town,  having  the  finest  post  office  west  of  the  Mississippi  River,, 
built  of  cut  stone.  From  Lincoln  we  kept  our  southwest  course 
twenty  miles,  until  we  crossed  the  Big  Blue  River,  then  took  a 
direct  west  course  eighty  miles,  across  an  uninhabited,  open 
prairie — one  vast  ocean  of  grass,  in  all  its  primeval  loneliness — 
until  we  reached  Hastings,  another  railroad  centre,  standing  in  the 
midst  of  surrounding  solitude.  At  Hastings  we  turned  at  right 
angle,  and  went  south  thirty  miles ;  struck  the  Republican  River 
at  Red  Cloud,  and  took  supper  there. 

At  that  point  we  turned  our  course  directly  west,  following  the 
valley  of  that  river  the  remaining  part  of  the  night.  At  daylight 
Saturday  morning,  September  22d,  we  crossed  the  line  into  the 
State  of  Colorado. 

Nothing  near  us  could  be  seen  except  one  broad  expanse  of 
prairie,  rolling  away  in  its  blank  nakedness  for  hundreds  of  miles 
without  a  tree,  plant,  or  shrub,  or  any  thing  to  break  the  monotony 
of  the  scene ;  until  the  expanse  sinks  beneath  the  horizon,  on  the 
peaks  of  the  far  distant  Colorado  mountains.  We  have  passed  the 
rich  soil  of  the  Platte,  and  here  we  find  it  scarcely  four  inches  deep, 
underlaid  with  a  white  sand,  and  coated  over  with  a  mat  of  buf 
falo  grass,  about  four  inches  high,  which  is  dried  down  to  hay, 
having  a  brown  and  crisp  appearance,  yet  it  is  said  that  stock  and 
buffalos  feed  and  thrive  upon  it.  Some,  however,  must  have  died 
from  some  cause,  as  the  only  products  to  be  seen  along  the  whole 
route  for  shipment,  is  a  few  piles  of  buffalo  bones. 

We  took  breakfast  at  Akron,  which  is  merely  an  eating  house  to 
accommodate  travel. 

After  starting  along  again,  all  eyes  were  set  on  the  distant  peaks 


6 

of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  As  we  drew  nearer,  they  appeared  to 
rise  higher  a^nd  more  high,  until  they  stood  in  mighty  grandeur 
"before  us. 

We  reached  the  city  of  Denver  at  11  A.  M.,  1,671  miles  west  of 
Buffalo.  Nothing  could  be  more  astonishing  to  [me  than  after 
traveling  for  hundreds  of  miles  across  an  open,  wild,  and  uninhabi 
ted  prairie,  to  be  at  once  ushered  into  a  rich  and  populous  city  of 
70,000  inhabitants;  where  wealth,  opulence  and  grandeur  meet. 
The  public  buildings  are  trimmed  with  cut  stone  of  bright  colors 
and  different  hues ;  representing  a  great  degree  of  artistic  beauty. 

The  Opera  House  is  very  tastefully  trimmed,  and  cost  over  a 
million  of  dollars,  and  it  is  said  to  be  the  finest  house  of  the  kind  in 
the  United  States.  The  depot  is  built  of  cut  stone  at, a  cost  of 
$600,000.  The  City  Hall  is  built  of  cut  stone  also,  of  three  differ 
ent  colors,  very  rich  and  ornamented  ;  cost  $31 0,000. 

The  town  is  laid  out  in  squares,  set  with  cotton  wood  trees,  and 
water  from  the  mountains  and  20  flowing  artesian  wells,  distributed, 
flows  down  all  its  streets.  The  water  from  the  wells  which  are  from 
300  to  400  feet  deep,  is  very  clear  and  pure,  but  not  cold  ;  afford 
ing  a  good  supply. 

The  private  buildings  are  tastefully  erected,  from  three  to  five 
stories  high,  composed  of  wood,  iron  "and  stone.  The  shops  are 
supplied  with  every  article  of  convenience  on  the  globe.  Their 
telegraph  poles  are  two  feet  through,  spliced,  and  60  feet  high, 
ascended  by  iron  steps  driven  in  the  sides  and  carry  160  wires. 

We  have  now  passed  the  beautiful  prairied  west,  so  much 
admired,  so  much  extolled  in  song,  where  peaceful  rivers  gently 
wind  their  way  through  fields  of  golden  grain;  as  well  as  the 
untold  millions  of  acres  of  land  that  still  lies  in  its  native  wild- 
ness,  where  nature's  plastic  hand  first  gave  it  form.  All  is  left 
behind,  while  before  us  the  Rocky  Mountains  rise  up  in  bold 
affront  and  seem  to  defy  our  farther  progress.  Before  leaving  the 
city  I  inquired  from  whence  they  gained  so  much  wealth.  The 
answer  from  all  was  the  same.  It  comes  from  the  rich  mines  in  the 
mountains  that  surround  us. 

Four  railroads  diverge  from  here.  At  7:15  P.  M.  I  took  the  Den 
ver  and  Rio  Grande  railroad  that  led  directly  south  along  the 
irregular  contour  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  range  75  miles  to  Colo 
rado  Springs.  As  the  road  climbed  steadily  upwards,  the  snow 
capped  peaks  became  more  and  more  visible,  stretching  away  to  the 
south  and  west  in  the  hazy  distance,  until  the  outlines  were  lost  in 
the  horizon,  but  Pike's  Peak  stood  directly  before  us,  clothed  in 
white,  ready  for  retirement  as  the  day  was  fast  drawing  to  a  close. 

Colorado  Springs  was  founded  in  1871  and  now  contains  6,000 
inhabitants.  The  streets  are  lined  with  trees,  and  water  courses 
passing  through  them.  The  business  houses  are  large,  and  it  has 
one  of  the  finest  opera  houses  in  the  country.  "  The  Antlers,"  a 
new  and  spacious  hotel,  costing  over  $150,000,  takes  the  place  of 
the  little  log  cabin  which  once  served  as  a  hostelry.  In  the  town  are 
churches  of  every  denomination.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
there  are  no  springs  at  this  place,  they  are  located  in  Manitou,  at 


the  foot  of  Pike's  Peak,  on  a  branch  road  five  miles  distant,  which. 
I  took,  arriving  at  10  p.  M.,  and  put  up  at  the  Bell  House. 

Manitou  nestles  in  a  narrow  valley,  being  shut  in  on  three  sides 
by  the  foot  hills  of  the  Rockies.  Its  only  importance  is  a  watering 
place  for  invalids,  and  a  resort  for  tourists  and  pleasure  seekers,  in 
search  of  the  wild  and  sublime  beauties  of  nature.  It  is  well  pro 
vided  with  public  houses,  some  of  which  are  very  large  and 
commodious.  It  also  has  a  new  and  splendid  bath  house,  and  all  the 
conveniences  for  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  invalids.  It  has  a 
population  of  500  which  is  rapidly  increasing.  No  other  watering 
place  on  the  globe  has  so  many  wild  attractions,  sublime  and  soul- 
stirring  scenes,  that  strike  the  mind  with  such  wonder  and  rever 
ential  awe — lying  in  close  proximity — as  Manitou. 

Pike's  Peak,  the  Cave  of  Stalactites,  Williams  Canon,  Rainbow 
Fall,  Red  Canon,  Garden  of  the  Gods,  Glen  Eyrie,  Devil's  Punch 
Bowl,  Cheyenne  Canon  and  Manitou  Park.  Then  to  cap  the 
grandeur  of  all,  to  stand  upon  some  cloud-capped  eminence  and 
look  off  in  space,  and  see  the  different  peaks  of  the  mountains 
shooting  up  fantastically  in  every  conceivable  shape  and  form,  like 
an  ocean  in  its  wildest  gambols,  ruffled  by  a  stormy  tempest. 

The  medical  springs  located  at  Manitou  are  six  in  number.  The 
Navajoe,  from  which-  water  supplies  the  bath  house;  also  the  Iron, 
Ute,  the  Sulphur,  the  Manitou,  Ute-Soda  and  Little  Chief.  The 
water  is  said  to  be  palatable  to  those  accustomed  to  it,  but  to  me 
it  was  most  loathsome. 


September  23d  was  the  Sabbath.  Still  remembering  that 
Christ  went  up  into  a  mountain  to  pray,  I  took  a  lunch  and  started 
for  that  lone  retreat,  to  spend  the  day  in  seclusion  with  nature  and 
my  God  alone.  I  started  up  a  canon  clothed  with  verdure,  and  a 
torrent  stream  foaming  and  rushing  headlong  down  its  course. 
On  my  right  and  left  the  granite  walls  rose  thousands  of  feet  above 
my  head,  on  top  of  which  two  mighty  figures  stand  inhuman  form, 
called  Gog  and  Magog.  Many  little  grottoes  were  seen  far  up  the 
inaccessible  cliffs  where  human  foot  has  never  trod.  Innumerable 
masses  of  rock  stand  out  in  open  relief  far  up  the  dizzy  heights 
above,  resembling  various  objects  of  reality:  such  as  giants,  forti 
fications,  and  the  like.  One  represents  a  steamboat  with  smoke 
stack  and  boiler.  A  few  miles  up  I  passed  a  side  canon,  yet  still  I 
wound  around  onward  and  upward,  among  immense  fallen  masses 
of  rock  that  were  piled  up  one  upon  the  other  in  wild  confusion  in 
the  canon  below,  while  through  tl^e  masses  the  torrent  stream 
dashing,  foamed  and  spent  its  fury.  Still  to  the  right  and  left  the 
cliffs  rise  up  and  seem  to  pierce  the  clouds. 

Hemmed  in  a  narrow  defile,  an  awful  chasm,  following  up  a  burro 
trail  a  foot  wide,  I  found  myself  on  the  highway  to  Pike's  Peak. 
Turning  to  the  right  and  crossing  the  gulch  on  a  rude  bridge  to 
the  other  side,  I  discovered  Sheltered  Falls  rushing  out  from  under 
the  fallen  masses  of  rock,  rolling  and  foaming  in  its  headlong  course 
down  the  rocky  abyss.  While  down  here  below,  I  could  not  keep 


8 

my  eyes  off  from  the  many  objects  on  the  towering  heights  above. 
I  saw  in  form  a  mighty  railroad  car  roofed  out  100  feet,  a  noble 
gothic  cottage,  a  king's  crown,  and  an  extensive  cemetery  with  its 
numerous  monuments  rising  high  in  air  amid  the  scattered  verdure 
with  which  its  surface  was  overgrown.  Paralyzed  I  stood  and 
gazed  in  wondrous  thought,  my  vision  beheld  it,  my  imagination 
grasps  it,  my  tongue  can't  explain  it,  my  pen  can't  portray  it.  The 
mighty  works  of  God.  Anon  crossing  and  recrossing  this  torrent, 
I  at  length  came  to  a  wooded  section  of  tall  pines,  on  a  descending 
plateau.  While  passing  through  this  I  heard  the  low  growling  of 
a  cat;  I  looked,  and  behold  in  a  crouching  form  the  animal  was 
approaching  me.  I  drew  my  revolver  and  assumed  an  attitude  of 
defence;  but  giving  a  sudden  scatt!  I  was  again  left  in  silent 
blessedness.  Emerging  from  this  grove  and  passing  a  little  cas 
cade,  I  again  came  out  into  open  view  of  "  peaks  that  o'er  peaks 
appeared,  and  seemed  to  reach  the  sky,  but  when  they  were  trod, 
far  on  beyond,  new  cliffs  o'er  cliffs,  arose."  Many  of  which  had 
been  burned  over,  and  nothing  but  utter  barren,  naked  rock 
appeared.  Toiling  up  the  steep  ascent  in  the  hot  sun,  with  per 
spiration  on  my  brow,  I  looked  up  and  saw  the  snow  clad  summit 
of  Pike's  Peak.  O,  how  refreshing  the  sight ;  how  soon  I  thought 
to  be  there,  and  view  the  surroundings ;  then  return  to  my  hotel. 
Little  dreaming  that  I  was  yet  six  or  eight  miles  away,  with  the 
steepest  part  of  the  grade  to  climb  yet,  and  the  toil,  suffering  and 
fatigue  I  must  endure  to  reach  that  point.  To  see  summer  and 
eternal  winter,  apparently  clasp  hands  was  a  novel  sight. 

But  O,  how  deceitful  is  distance  in  climbing  a  mountain.  Alti 
tude  appears  to  annihilate  space.  I  had  now  left  the  mountain 
stream  behind,  while  heat  and  perspiration  increased  my  thirst. 
Looking  down  a  mile  below  I  saw  a  little  lake  where  placid  waters 
lay,  and  mocked  my  thirst.  O,  cruel  fate  that  hath  denied  that 
cooling  draught  to  wet  my  parched  lips.  It  is  Lake  Moraine; 
covers  40  acres,  and  is  60  feet  deep,  clear  and  cold.  Its  altitude  is 
over  10,000  feet. 

Winding  and  turning  in  the  ascent  I  soon  began  to  feel  a  cool 
ing  atmosphere,  and  on  arriving  at  the  line  where  vegetation  ceases 
to  grow,  1  came  to  a  spring  that  was  frozen,  and  the  water  and 
mud  about  it  was  held  in  icy  chains. 

I  looked  up  above  and  about  me,  and  nothing  could  be  seen  but 
masses  of  broken  rocks,  shivered  and  splintered  to  pieces,  and 
hurled  down  from  the  heights  above,  and  piled  upon  each  other  in 
the  rudest  form,  and  chaotic  confusion  was  seen  everywhere.  I 
trembled  at  the  sight,  and  adored  a  Creative  Power. 

The  sun  had  now  sunk  beneath  the  horizon.  My  limbs  grew 
weary,  my  heart  beat  audibly  in  the  rarified  atmosphere.  The 
chills  of  evening  were  gathering  around  me,  and  patches  of  snow 
were  under  my  feet.  Should  I  return,  it  was  ten  miles  back. 
Should  I  proceed,  it  was  three  miles  to  the  summit,  and  no  moon 
to  shine  upon  the  narrow  trail  through  which  I  must  pick  my  way. 
Resolving  to  proceed,  I  picked  up  a  couple  of  coffee  sacks,  rolled 
them  around  my  hands  as  a  sort  of  muff,  and  slowly  plodded  along. 


9 

From  weariness  I  sat  down  upon  every  friendly  rock  I  came  to,  for 
rest  and  breath.  The  mountain  breeze  chilled  me  through,  and  I 
shook  like  an  aspen  leaf.  Fvery  few  rods,  instead  of  sitting 
I  would  lay  down  under  some  sheltering  rock  for  rest,  breath,  and 
protection  from  the  wind.  The  trail  now  became  slippery,  and  the 
broken  fragments  of  granite  were  covered  with  ice.  Weary  with 
the  toils  of  the  day,  chilled  with  the  coldness  of  night,  trembling  in 
every  nerve  my  feet  tripped  at  every  obstacle,  I  would  fall  flat  on 
my  face  and  remain  until  my  heart  ceased  to  nutter  and  throb  in  a 
measure;  then,  feeling  invigorated,  I  would  arise  and  with  new 
courage  start  on ;  but  as  soon  as  the  motion  of  my  feet  commenced, 
the  internal  motion  also  commenced,  and  it  seemed  as  though  I 
had  a  trip-hammer  within  my  breast,  and  felt  a  relaxation  and 
sickness  besides.  I  knew  not  what  ailed  me,  and  began  to  fear  I 
might  perish  there  on  the  mountain  side  alone,  not  realizing  I  was 
breathing  a  rarified  atmosphere  I  had  never  inhaled  before. 

Prone  on  the  snow  and  ice  I  poured  out  my  supplications  to  the 
God  who  rules  on  high.  A  few  moments  on  my  leet,  and  more  on 
the  snow,  I  gradually  arose  until  some  time  in  the  night  I  espied  a 
little  hut  on  top  of  the  mountain;  with  joy  I  started  for  it,  when  I 
ought  to  have  taken  the  right  hand  trail  that  would  have  led  me 
to  a  better  place ;  but  I  missed  it  in  the  darkness  and  supposed  I 
was  on  the  only  track.  Arriving  at  the  small  stone  house,  having 
two  windows  and  a  door,  where  I  loudly  rapped,  and  in  the  most 
piteous  tones,  plead  for  mercy  and  protection.  I  heard  heavy  foot 
steps  within,  but  no  voice  responded  to  mine.  It  was  a  stable, 
with  a  mule  inside.  I  went  entirely  around  it  and  looked  in  every 
direction  for  the  abode  of  man.  Nothing  but  snow  could  be  seen, 
and  no  visible  trail  led  from  it.  I  was  reduced  to  the  alternative 
of  choosing  a  perishing  condition  without,  or  seeking  such  an 
humble  shelter  within  as  that  in  which  my  Saviour  was  born. 
Finding  a  floor  and  two  more  coffee  sacks,  and  being  sheltered 
from  the  wind,  I  felt  myself  happy,  and  praised  a  Creator's  name. 
Notwithstanding  my  happy  condition,  I  could  not  get  warm,  but 
trembled  and  shook  till  daylight  appeared,  then,  looking  over  the 
crest  of  the  mountain,  I  discovered  the  low  signal  station  covered 
with  snow.  So  near  where  joy  and  happiness  abound,  and  I  knew 
it  not.  I  hastened  there,  the  signal  boys  got  up  and  made  me 
warm ;  gave  me  a  cup  of  coffee,  but  I  could  not  eat. 

When  the  sun  was  well  up  one  of  the  signal  boys  went  out  on 
top  of  the  mountain  and  showed  me  the  surrounding  scenes.  Look 
ing  to  the  east  we  saw  Manitou  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and 
Colorado  Springs  in  close  proximity,  also  the  Garden  of  the  Gods 
on  the  left,  while  the  broad  stretching  prairie  rolled  on  until  it  was 
lost  in  the  horizon.  Then  turning  to  the  south  we  beheld  directly 
before  us  the  peaks  that  rise  and  shoot  up  in  every  conceivable 
shape  and  form,  as  though  nature  had  frolicked  with  herself,  and 
when  in  the  height  of  her  carnival  was  at  once  frozen  stiff.  Still 
beyond  all  this,  in  the  far  distance  could  be  seen  the  Sangre  De 
Christo  that  closed  the  view  in  that  direction.  Southwest  the  fan 
tastic  peaks  held  our  attention  a  few  moments,  and  then  the  vision. 


10 

extends  on  for  hundreds  of  miles  and  rested  on  the  snow  range  that 
is  clad  in  perpetual  winter. 

On  the  north  down  the  perpendicular  side  of  the  mountain  is 
the  Bottomless  Pit,  not  of  fire,  but  of  eternal  snow  and  ice. 

The  top  of  the  mountain  is  oval,  comprising  an  area  of  four 
acres,  composed  of  nothing  but  broken  rocks,  being  the  highest 
point  in  the  United  States,  and  the  most  elevated  habitation  on 
the  globe,  where  only  two  signal  station  boys  stay  a  portion  of 
the  time.  A  marble  slab  stands  directly  on  the  summit,  on  which 
I  read, 

"Fair  Cynthia  with  her  starry  train, 

Shall  linger  o'er  thy  silent  rest ; 
And  waft  one  soft,  sweet  spirit  strain 

To  Erin,  among  the  blest." 

Erected  by  Serj.  John  and  Morah  O'Keef,  in  memory  of  their 
infant  daughter,  Erin  O'Keef,  who  was  destroyed  by  mountain 
rats  at  the  U.  S.  Signal  Station  on  the  summit  of  Pike's  Peak, 
March  25th,  1876. 

No  vehicle  has  ever  ascended  this  mountain  yet ;  everything 
even  to  the  wood  they  burn  is  brought  up  on  burro  trains,  that  is 
on  mules'  back.  Returning  again  to  the  station  about  noon,  a 
company  on  burros  arrived,  and  a  lady  among  the  rest,  who 
dropped  at  once  into  a  chair,  relaxed,  and  exclaimed,  "  O,  I  wish  I 
could  die ! "  She  had  my  sympathy.  I  drank  another  cup  of 
coffee,  gave  my  host  a  dollar  for  accommodations,  and  started 
back.  Having  traveled  a  mile  or  two  my  strength  failed,  and  I 
stretched  myself  out  on  a  rock.  Two  gentlemen  came  along  down 
on  horseback  and  stopped,  one  dismounted,  saying,  "  Here,  my 
friend,  get  on  and  ride  down  this  steep  grade,  and  I  will  walk."  I 
rode  about  a  mile,  and  then  returned  his  horse  with  my  most  grateful 
thanks. 

After  going  a  little  farther,  I  looked  back  up  the  mountain,  and 
behold,  one  of  the  signal  boys  was  coming  down  on  the  govern 
ment  mule,  who  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night  by  his  steps  on 
the  floor,  while  I  lay  quivering  in  one  corner  as  his  only  com 
panion.  He  is  one  of  the  noblest  of  his  kind,  and  I  obtained  his 
picture.  The  young  man  at  once  got  off,  saying,  "  Here,  my  dear 
friend,  get  on  and  ride ;  I  am  more  able  to  walk  than  thou."  I 
felt  that  God  had  blessed  me,  and  I  highly  appreciated  the  favor. 
I  was  surprised  to  see  with  what  caution  and  precision  the  animal 
took  every  step,  never  stumbling  or  missing  his  foothold  all  the 
way  down.  We  arrived  at  Manitou  at  dark.  I  returned  the 
faithful  animal  to  its  owner,  gave  him  a  dollar,  and  my  blessings 
also,  then  repaired  to  the  Bell  House. 


Tuesday,  September  25th,  I  visited  the  Stalactite  Cave.     My 

course  led  up  William's  Canon  a  mile  and  a  quarter.  The   rocky 

sides  rise  from  200  to  300  feet  perpendicular,  and  the  hills   above 
rise  much  higher. 


11 

It  appears  as  though  nature  by  one  cleft  of  her  power  had  split 
the  mountain  in  twain,  and  in  places  there  is  barely  room  for  the 
wagon  track,  while  at  the  narrows  the  road  seems  to  be  closed,  and 
the  track  passes  under  overhanging  rocks,  and  terminates  at  the 
Bridal  Veil  Falls,  which  has  a  descent  of  seventy  feet.  The 
broken,  jagged  and  rugged  rocks  high  up  on  these  precipicies 
represent  spires,  temples,  towers,  arches  and  steeples.  Masonic 
arch  is  high  up  on  the  clifts.  The  Temple  of  Juno  is  seen  on  the 
left.  The  Temple  of  Icis  is  hollow,  with  various  openings  for 
doors  and  windows,  and  looks  very  natural. 

The  mouths  of  many  grottoes  present  themselves  high  up  on  the 
inaccessible  cliffs,  and  are  called  windows. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  natural  scenes  on  earth 
is  found  in  this  Canon,  about  a  mile  from  Manitou,  where  the  walls 
slope  back  a  little,  so  that  by  winding  and  turning  we  ascend  170 
feet,  and  come  to  a  cleft  or  crevice  in  the  rocks  running  at  right 
angle  with  the  Canon,  which  is  spanned  by  two  natural  bridges. 
Under  these  we  pass  in  ascending  a  flight  of  wooden  steps  for  the 
next  1 00  feet,  which  brings  us  to  the  mouth  of  a  grotto,  in  which 
is  a  Temple  of  Nature,  made  by  God's  own  hand,  ornamented  and 
embellished  with  the  most  exquisite  workmanship  of  his  power. 
Such  as  stalactites,  stalagmites,  alabaster,  frescoed  walls,  musical 
appliances,  statuary  of  men,  animals,  birds,  beasts  and  creeping 
things,  besides  thousands  of  other  undescribed  objects. 

The  entrance  is  guarded  by  doors  to  the  ante-room,  where  guests 
register ;  this  is  fifteen  feet  long,  seven  feet  wide,  and  seven  feet 
high.  Stooping  under  a  rock  we  go  through  a  narrow  path  to  the 
dressing  room,  eighteen  by  fifteen  feet  and  ten  feet  high.  There 
is  a  smooth  surfaced  rock  in  this  room  forming  a  natural  table,  on 
which  guests  lay  their  hats  and  bonnets,  and  are  provided  with 
dark  muslin  dresses,  if  they  wish  them. 

Our  candles  being  lighted,  we  follow  a  narrow  path  a  few  feet 
and  pass  under  a  low  arch  three  feet  thick,  that  is  covered  with 
stalactite  material,  from  which  we  at  once  emerge  into  Cascade 
Hall.  This  room  is  eighteen  by  ten  feet  and  fifteen  feet  high. 
In  this  is  a  large  cascade  of  dripstone,  resembling  water  falling 
over  rocks,  fifteen  feet,  and  overhung  with  stalactites.  A  flight  of 
stairs  descend  twenty  feet  to  rooms  below,  and  on  the  opposite 
side  is  a  flight  of  stairs  to  rooms  above,  entered  by  a  tunnel  forty 
feet  long,  on  the  wall  of  which  is  the  form  of  a  man  hanging  by 
one  arm,  and  at  the  end  of  the  tunnel  is  a  dry  well,  on  which  rests 
two  flight  of  steps.  Ascending  one  of  these,  we  came  to  a  long 
tunnel,  inside  of  which  is  a  foot  and  leg  of  an  elephant  almost 
perfect.  Ascending  another  stairway,  and  passing  through  a 
crevice,  we  arrive  at  Canopy  Hall,  which  is  230  feet  long,  30  feet 
wide  and  30  feet  high,  filled  with  wonders  and  lighted  by  a 
locomotive  headlight. 

In  a  crevice  over  head  are  hundreds  of  stalactites  standing  in 
line  by  twos  and  threes  until  darkness  obscures  the  view. 

On  a  projecting  shelf  are  stalagmites  resembling  so  many 
Candles.  Walking  down  over  carbonate  of  lime  into  a  side  room, 


12 

twenty  feet  long  and  sixteen  feet  high,  brought  us  to  the  icy 
curtain,  which  is  fluted  and  flounced  nTartistic  style. 

It  contains  many  stalactites  and  mounds  of  clay  covered  a  foot 
thick  with  lime  formation.  Still  farther  we  passed  under  an  arch 
into  another  part,  bringing  us  into  a  spacious  room,  in  one  corner 
of  which,  the  inclined  rock  floor,  appears  to  be  a  rippling  stream. 
In  the  room  also  were  seen  stalactites  of  such  infinite  number  and 
form  that  my  pen  fails  to  describe  them.  Turning  about,  our  steps 
led  down  to  a  basin  which  is  fifteen  feet  across  and  five  feet  deep. 
Water  has  stood  in  it  for  untold  ages.  Crossing  over  this  on  a 
bridge,  and  ascending  farther  we  pass  stalactite,  large  and  small, 
with  fluted  columns;  also  on  a  projecting  rock  is  seen  the  old 
hog's  head,  with  large  eyes  and  ears  and  upturned  nose,  also  the 
suspended  columns.  Leaving  this  room  of  the  beautiful,  and 
turning  to  the  left  and  stooping  slightly,  we  pass  into  Boston 
Avenue,  500  feet  long,  which  is"  low,  narrow  and  very  crooked, 
leading  to  a  small  side  room,  where  we  ascend  a  flight  of  stairs 
and  pass  twenty  feet  through  a  small  aperture  called  Tall  Man's 
Misery,  into  the  dining  room,  where  the  workmen  once  eat  their 
dinner.  This  room  has  two  halls  leading  to  it  and  two  leading 
from  it.  Its  size  is  ten  by  sixteen  feet  and  twenty  feet  high.  Then 
crossing  over  a  bridge  into  the  Hall  of  Beauty,  passing  by  the 
slice  of  bacon,  the  pig's  ear,  cave  of  cinders,  Jacob's  ladder,  lake 
basin,  skylights,  furnace  grate  and  pillow  of  stalactite,  into  Chicago 
Avenue,  which  is  so  narrow  that  visitors  pass  it  in  single  file, 
going  by  the  thigh  and  foot  and  clusters  of  flowers,  into  Music 
Hall,  seventy  feet  long,  ten  feet  wide  and  twenty  feet  high.  Here, 
under  a  bridge,  hang  a  large  number  of  stalactites,  "which  are 
musical,  giving  forth  the  tones  of  an  organ. 

Here  are  also  some  of  the  finest  flowering  alabaster  in  the  cave, 
and  the  walls  are  incrusted  with  it.  There  are  clusters  of  stalactites 
surrounded  by  beds  of  flowers,  and  on  the  side  wall  is  seen  the 
sleeping  bird. 

Another  avenue  leads  to  St.  Almon's  Rest,  in  which  is  the 
sheep's  head  and  also  a  post  office,  where  visitors  leave  their  cards. 
Descending  twelve  feet  brought  us  to  the  Old  Maid's  Kitchen. 
Going  down  stairs  we  enter  Alabaster  Hall,  thirty  feet  long  and 
five  feet  wide.  The  ceiling  is  oval,  and  every  inch  of  space 
covered  with  alabaster  flowers.  They  can.  not  be  described,  they 
are  as  white  as  the  driven  snow  and  infinite  in  form.  Cathedral 
Alcove,  Floral  Temple,  &c.,  have  untold  beauties,  such  as 
translucent  bunches  of  alabaster,  coral  wreaths,  stalactites  in 
numerable,  and  the  needleization  of  crystalized  lime  is  infinitely 
fine  and  tinny,  and  astonishes  the  beholder  when  looking  upon  it. 
Untold  millions  of  crystalized  needles  are  sticking  out  of  the  wall, 
surrounded  by  branches  of  the  same  material,  which  glitter  and 
dazzle  in  the  torch  lights.  Going  a  little  farther  we  came  to  the 
last,  but  not  the  least,  of  these  grotto  wonders.  The  room  is  ten 
feet  high,  eighteen  feet  wide  and  twenty-five  feet  long,  with  the 
floor  rising  on  the  back  side.  No  one  approaches  any  farther  than 
the  doorway,  which  is  oval  at  the  top,  five  feet  wide  and  six  feet 


13 

high.  Without  contradiction,  we  say  this  is  the  finest  under 
ground  room  in  the  world.  The  roof  is  hung  with  stalactite 
icicles  and  stalagmites  rising  from  the  bottom.  One  representing 
a  bride  adorned  for  the  wedding,  surrounded  by  translucent  shafts, 
chandeliers,  candlesticks,  pillars,  supporting  urns  and  vases,  while 
over  her  head  the  ceiling  is  fully  covered  with  floral,  amid  the 
pendant  icicles  with  which  it  is  sprinkled  o'er.  All  in  and  around 
this  hall  is  of  the  purest  white.  The  right  hand  side  of  the 
chamber  is  called  the  museum,  where  apparently  the  Great  Artist 
wrought  the  plastic  material  into  works  of  creation  rather  than 
fiction,  such  as  flowers,  vegetables,  beets,  carrots,  parsnips,  birds, 
snakes,  and  almost  every  conceivable  form  of  vegetable  and 
animal  kingdom.  Its  beauties  can  never  be  told  ;  it  must  be  seen 
to  be  appreciated.  The  scientist  can  not  describe  it,  and  I  will 
attempt  it  no  farther.  The  cave  was  discovered  June  26th,  1880, 
by  two  boys,  John  and  George  Picket.  It  is  owned  by  Rlnehart 
and  Snider,  and  must  be  a  source  of  great  wealth,  as  one  dollar 
fee  is  charged  for  entrance.  Emerging  irom  this  cavern  of  beauty, 
I  ascended  to  the  lofty  heights  above,  and  cast  my  eyes  south  on 
the  rocky  peaks  that  shoot  up  in  grand  fantastic  sublimity,  scooped 
by  the  same  hand  and  formed  by  the  same  Power  Divine  that 
caused  those  beauties  to  appear  below.  And  how  little  am  I, 
standing  between  the  two  speechless,  gazing  on  the  sublime 
grandeur  in  silence,  when  a  spirit  voice  fell  on  my  ear,  saying,  "I 
am  here,  these  works  are  mine."  I  retired  in  meditation.  After 
dinner  my  footsteps  led  me  towards  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  so 
•called  because  man  has  had  nothing  to  do  with  its  formation. 

I  had  not  gone  far  belore  a  gentleman  overtook  me,  riding  alone 
in  a  buggy,  and  asked  me  to  ride.  The  first  object  noticed  was  a 
mighty  frog,  twenty  feet  in  length,  sitting  on  his  feet  on  top  of  a 
distant  rock.  Then  soon  appeared  a  mighty  blacksmith's  anvil, 
twenty  feet  high ;  then  a  giant's  head  with  deep  sunken  eyes  and 
yawning  mouth ;  next  appeared  the  ruined  city,  a  name  I  applied 
because  the  numerous  shafts  of  red  sand  stone  shootirg  up  and 
overcapped  by  broad  slabs  of  blue  limestone,  represent  so  many 
•chimneys  after  the  buildings  had  been  demolished.  On  a  massive 
rock  lies  a  huge  alligator  that  never  winks. 

On  an  eminence  that  overlooks  the  plateau  beyond,  stands 
balance  rock  so  poised  and  of  such  immense  weight  that  storms 
and  tempest  can  not  move  it.  Advancing  upon  the  smooth  sur 
face  of  the  plane,  where  there  is  not  a  spire  of  grass  or  the  least 
vestige  of  vegetation  to  break  its  monotony,  we  came  to  the  gate 
way  of  the  Garden  of  the  Gods.  From  this  smooth  surface,  and 
on  either  side  of  the  roadway,  blades  of  red  sandstone  have  been 
thrown  up  from  their  stratas  below  and  left  standing  edgewise, 
rising  for  hundreds  of  feet  in  the  air,  with  perpendicular  sides,  and 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  thick.  The  top  being  jagged,  it  represents 
spires,  steeples,  cathedrals  and  the  like. 

This  upheavaling  of  nature  took  place  at  a  very  early  period, 
when  this  earth  was  shook  from  centre  to  circumference  in  such  a 
manner  that  no  pen  can  describe  it  or  imagination  can  conceive  it. 


u 

Mountains  were  cleft  asunder,  and  their  massive  fragments  rolled: 
down  their  sides  or  crushed  to  pieces,  and  piled  up  in  chaotic  con 
fusion  along  their  course.  All  nature  demonstrates  this  fact,  but 
no  history  can  reach  it,  as  it  is  prehistoric,  and  perhaps  before  the 
creation  of  man. 

Returning  now  to  my  subject,  and  passing  the  gateway  on  the 
opposite  side,  in  open  relief  rises  the  Tower  of  Babel  for  hundreds 
of  feet,  having  numerous  spires  on  top ;  and  near  by  is  Montezumas 
Cathedral  of  red  sandstone,  of  a  similar  shape  and  size.  Beyond 
this  is  seen  the  blue  rocks,  which  shoot  up  in  perpendicular  blades 
to  a  great  height,  extending  for  miles,  forming  one  eternal  barrier 
to  man  and  beast. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  wonderful  places  in  the  world,  although 
utter  barreness  and  desolation  characterize  every  foot  of  the 
ground.  But  the  innumerable  shafts  and  blades,  standing  amid 
the  garden,  and  the  contrast  of  blue  granite  with  red  sandstone, 
all  conspire  to  make  the  place  admirable. 

Proceeding  onward  we  crossed  Monument  Creek,  and  followed 
up  the  bank  a  mile  to  General  William  J.  Palmer's  residence  at 
Glen  Eyrie,  located  on  Monument  Creek.  These  grounds  being 
irrigated  showed  verdure  and  beauty.  An  exquisite  tasty  gate 
way  of  varnished  cedar,  a  gate-house,  conservatory,  shaded  walka 
and  lawns  make  it  really  an  oases  in  that  desert  country.  Behind 
the  residence  rises  the  rugged,  barren  mountain.  On  the  left  and 
from  the  smooth  surface  of  the  low  ground  rise  many  shafts  of 
red  sandstone,  apparently  200  feet  high,  resembling  chimneys  and 
of  an  equal  size  all  the  way  up. 

Turning  around  and  retracing  our  steps,  we  saw  high  up  on  one 
of  the  lofty  crags  the  eyrie,  where  the  eagle  reared  its  young. 
Following  down  the  valley  of  Monument  Creek,  by  the  foot  of 
the  mountain,  where  nothing  but  utter  barrenness  is  seen  for  five 
miles,  brought  us  to  the  old  town  of  Colorado  City,  an  offspring 
of  the  early  days  of  '49,  when  Pike's  Peak  was  the  objective  point 
of  all.  It  can  now  boast  of  nothing,  only  having  been  the  seat  of 
Colorado's  first  legislature.  We  drove  to  Manitou,  and  at  the 
Bell  House  I  rested  quietly. 


Wednesday,  September  26th,  I  left  Manitou  about  8  A.  M.  and 
returned  five  miles  on  the  branch  road  to  Colorado  Springs.  At 
11.50  I  took  the  main  line  south,  still  following  the  banks  of  Foun 
tain  Creek,  which  we  started  on  at  Manitou,  until  we  reached 
its  junction  with  the  Kansas  and  Pueblo,  40  miles  distant,  through 
a  fine  valley  in  which  nothing  will  grow  without  irrigation. 
Pueblo  is  a  small  place,  the  junction  of  four  rods,  and  has  the  rail 
road  shops.  Turning  our  course  now  northwest,  we  follow  the 
rugged  and  awful  channel  of  the  Arkansas  river  for  the  next  hun 
dred  miles  or  more  to  Salida.  Starting  along  up  the  river  for 
many  miles  through  a  narrow  vale  entirely  barren  except  where 
irrigated,  we  only  saw  a  little  stinted  corn,  and  miserable  hirts  of 
willow  poles,  ten  feet  square,  covered  with  dirt.  The  banks  rise 


15 

perpendicular  on  both  sides,  and  are  composed  of  alternate  stratas 
of  shale  and  light  gray  limestone.  As  the  valley  winds  and  turns 
they  represent  one  connected  and  continuous  line  of  fortifications; 
while  their  points  shooting  up  in  different  forms  and  shapes,  repre 
sent  castles,  spires,  towers,  chimnies,  batteries,  etc.  The  open 
country  beyond  represents  nothing  but  utter  nakedness  of  shale 
and  stone. 

Florence  is  a  coal  junction  where  immense  quantities  of  coal 
arrive  from  Coal  Creek. 

The  railroad  banks  are  protected  from  washing  by  slag  from  the 
silver  ores.  Canon  City  is  a  little  town  where  the  Silver  Cliff  road 
makes  a  junction.  From  here  the  road  passes  through  some  of  the 
grandest  and  most  sublime  scenery  on  earth  ;  the  Royal  Gorge  of 
the  Arkansas,  An  open  special  car  was  run  through  here,  on 
which  the  passengers  were  all  seated.  It  moved  directly  into  the 
canon  where  the  steep  sides  are  only  moderately  high,  but  before 
many  minutes  elapsed,  we  noticed  they  grew  higher  with  every 
turn  of  the  wheel  until  they  seem  to  pierce  the  clouds,  and  rise  more 
than  one-fourth  of  a  mile  in  perpendicular  height ;  and  all  stand 
edgewise,  displaying  the  varied  colors  of  the  rainbow.  Their  sides 
are  perfectly  smooth  as  a  flag-stone  from  the  bottom  to  the  top, 
without  a  break  in  them  for  over  3,000  feet.  There  is  no  trees, 
bushes  or  grass  clinging  to  them,  and  a  bird  could  not  find  a  place 
to  rest  her  foot.  The  scene  becomes  darker  and  more  dreary,  and 
the  giant  walls  press  closer  together  until  they  approach  within 
thirty  feet  of  each  other,  and  shut  the  sun's  rays  from  view.  Here 
is  scarcely  room  for  the  river  alone,  while  the  track  runs  along  on 
a  bridge  built  lengthwise  of  the  stream  and  suspended  from  steel 
supports  mortised  into  the  rocks  overhead. 

Every  thing  is  weird,  wild  and  strange  around  us,  and  the  mad 
dened  river  dashing  against  the  rocks  breaks  the  stillness  with  its 
awful  roar. 

All  on  board  are  dwarfed  and  dumb,  beholding  the  power  that 
nature  possesses. 

Then,  on  looking  forward,  the  granite  walls  appeared  to  close 
and  shut  together,  and  it  seemed  that  we  must  at  once  be  crushed 
to  pieces;  but,  as  we  approached  the  scene,  the  road  gently  curved 
and  we  passed  around,  but  to  see  another  similar  feature  just  ahead. 
Thus  hugging  closely  to  the  rocky  walls,  we  wound  and  turned  for 
eight  miles,  until  we  made  our  egress  from  the  canon,  which  I  have 
vainly  tried  to  describe ;  finding  letters  useless  and  no  familiar 
object  adequate  for  comparison,  I  can  only  say,  "  how  mighty  are 
thy  works,  O  God  !" 

From  this  point  we  traversed  the  valley  of  the  upper  Arkansas, 
with  the  serrated  peaks  of  the  Sangre  de  Christo  close  at  hand  on 
the  rigK,  until  reaching  the  little  cozy  town  of  Salida  where  the 
Leadville  branch  makes  a  junction  with  the  main  line,  a  little  after 
dark. 

Holding  a  first  class  unlimited  through  ticket,  I  was  here  granted 
a  free  ticket  to  Leadville  and  return.  The  greatest  mining  camp 
in  the  world.  About  8  P.  M.  I  took  the  cars  on  the  branch  road 


16 

and  pursuing  a  northwest  course,  following  the  valley  of  the  same 
river  to  Leadville,  125  miles  from  Manitou,  arriving  there  at  mid 
night,  and  at  once  retired. 


Thursday,  September  27th. — Leadville  is  situated  in  the  central 
portion  of  the  State  of  Colorado.  The  eastern  portion  of  the  State 
is  one  continuous  unoccupied  plain  ;  while  the  remaining  portion  is 
covered  with  the  Rocky  Mountains,  which  a  few  years  ago  were 
considered  valueless,  except  as  the  backbone  to  hold  the  continent 
together.  But  later  investigation  has  unfolded  its  beauties,  and 
developed  its  wealth.  In  scenic  beauty  and  sublimity  it  rivals 
Switzerland ;  and  its  mineral  wealth  is  yet  untold.  Inhabitants 
have  flocked  there  like  fowls  of  the  air  to  their  wonted  resorts,  and 
as  by  magic,  it  has  at  once  been  spoken  into  a  State. 

At- present  Leadville  is  the  most  important  mining  town  in  the 
State.  It  has  a  population  of  20,000,  and  an  altitude  of  10,025 
feet.  It  has  no  fine  buildings ;  it  boasts  of  no  fine  arts,  everything 
is  covered  with  dirt,  and  there  is  no  reflection  for  a  future  state, 
and  no  thought  but  for  the  shining  dust.  Snow  ialls  in  June 
and  July,  and  is  never  out  of  sight  on  the  surrounding  mountains. 
It  was  told  me  that  no  vegetables  grew  within  200  miles  of  them. 

Starting  out  in  the  morning  I  saw  trains  of  heavy  teams  coming 
down  from  the  mines  on  the  east  loaded  with  ore  for  the  smelters 
and  for  shipment.  Casting  my  eyes  in  that  direction  I  noticed 
mounds  of  dirt  thrown  out  of  the  mining  shafts  scattered  over  the 
hills  as  far  as  I  could  see.  Walking  in  the  road  that  leads  up  Cal 
ifornia  Gulch,  I  discovered  the  banks  had  all  been  washed  out  for 
gold  dust. 

The  surface  of  the  country  is  made  up  of  broken  flat  stone,  inter 
mingled  with  brown  sand  and  clay,  and  is  easily  carried  about  in 
the  wind.  Hearing  a  train  of  teams  behind,  I  turned  around  and 
beheld  a  cloud  of  dust  that  enveloped  the  whole  scene. 

A  little  farther  along  I  came  to  where  three  men  were  washing 
for  gold.  The  water  was  caused  to  run  down  a  bank  of  ten  feet 
descent  into  a  trough  or  spout  having  cleats  inside  holding  quick 
silver.  The  bank  is  then  cut  down,  thrown  into  the  spout,  the  dirt 
washed  away  into  the  gulch  below,  the  stone  thrown  into  a  pile, 
while  the  quicksilver  catches  the  particles  of  gold  as  they  pass 
along. 

While  sitting  here  taking  notes,  a  burly  Irishman  came  along 
and  unceremoniously  threw  some  sacking  into  the  channel,  piling 
on  stone,  and  turned  the  water  off,  drove  the  men  away,  disputing 
their  claim. 

Mineral  is  found  at  all  depths,  from  the  surface  to  1,000  feet 
down.  Sometimes  they  tunnel  into  the  side  of  the  mountain  until 
they  are  a  hundred  feet  below  the  surface,  and  then  shaft  down. 
Steam  engines  are  brought  into  requisition  to  raise  the  mineral 
which  is  brought  up  in  little  hand  cars  that  are  dumped  into  a 
storehouse,  then  thrown  out  through  shoots  into  wagons  and  drawn 
away.  Four  hundred  and  forty  of  these  little  car-loads  are  raised 


17 

from  one  shaft  in  one  day.  One  shaft  is  said  to  have  a  strata  of 
from  50  to  60  feet  of  rock  and  sand  mineral,  120  feet  below  the 
surface.  Most  of  the  ores  are  of  a  snuff  or  drab  color,  and  a 
novice  could  not  detect  the  mineral  in  them. 

Silver  Cord  mine  is  900  feet  deep,  has  a  strata  of  mineral  35  feet 
in  thickness,  and  yields  150  tons  daily,  averaging  30  ounces  of  sil 
ver  per  ton. 

Iron  Mine  is  1,100  feet  on  an  inclined  plain;  but  its  perpendicu 
lar  height  is  but  375  feet.  The  perpendicular  shafts  are  cribbed 
with  wood  eight  inches  square. 

Standing  on  the  higher  lands  above  and  looking  down  the  town 
has  the  best  appearance,  being  surrounded  by  mountains  entirely 
destitute  of  vegetation. 

The  ores  are  broken  up  in  a  crusher,  put  into  a  furnace  and 
melted.  The  slag  is  drawn  off  into  an  iron  bowl  resting  on  a  hand 
barrow,  wheeled  off  and  emptied.  The  metals  run  out  into  a 
trough  and  are  dipped  out  with  a  ladle  into  dishes  that  forms  the 
bars. 

The  bourse  Consolidated  Mining  and  Smelting  company  has  a 
capital  stock  of  $1,000,000;  100,000  shares  at  $10  each. 

Of  the  mines  owned  by  this  company  we  notice  the  Silver  Plume. 
It  has  a  pay  streak  15  to  26  inches  wide,  the  ore  runs  40  ounces  of 
silver  and  50  or  60  per  cent,  of  lead,  20  feet  from  the  surface. 
The  vein  is  almost  perpendicular ;  the  course  of  the  vein  is  nearly 
north 

The  White  Iron  is  decomposed  iron,  and  ten  feet  wide.  It  runs 
ten  ounces  of  silver  and  two  ounces  of  gold  per  ton. 

The  Lulu  has  a  two  foot  pay  streak,  in  a  five  foot  vein  of  iron, 
which  mills  126  ounces  of  silver  and  two  ounces  of  gold. 

The  Pekin  has  a  ten  foot  vein  which  assays  170  ounces  of  silver. 

The  Kossuth  has  granite  walls,  five  feet  in  width,  yields  15 
ounces  of  silver  and  45  per  cent,  in  copper  per  ton,  at  a  depth  of 
15  feet. 

The  Dofflemeyer  has  returned  158  ounces  of  silver  to  the  ton. 
The  above  are  merely  sample  numbers  of  the  whole,  and  the  value 
of  these  mines  would  seem  fabulous.  The  Nevada  mine  was  sold 
in  1880  for  $245,000.  Silver  product  for  1882,  was  $18,000,000.^ 
Before  I  leave  this  subject  I  will  say  that  miners  are  all  compelled 
to  furnish  their  own  beds,  and  when  they  move  from  one  place  to 
another,  they  take  up  their  bed  and  walk. 

At  5  P.  M.  I  started  back  for  the  junction  at  Salida;  arriving 
there  about  10.  A  drummer  met  me  and  escorted  me  across  the 
river  on  the  ties  of  the  railroad  bridge  to  a  public  house.  As  I 
must  start  before  day  the  next  morning,  I  paid  my  bill  before 
retiring. 


Friday  morning,  September  28. — At  4  A.  M.,  in  the  darkness,  I 
was  searching  my  way  back  to  the  depot,  which  I  found  with  some 
difficulty,  and  was  soon  on  the  main  line  moving' west  on  the  Den 
ver  and  Rio  Grande  Railroad,  leaving  the  valley  of  the  Arkansas 


18 

river  behind,  to  climb  the  Continental  Divide,  over  the  mountains, 
through  Marshall's  Pass,  to  strike  the  channel  of  the  Gunnison 
river  on  the  other  side,  which  is  a  branch  of  the  Rio  Grande,  and 
connects  with  it  at  Grand  junction.  The  waters  then  flow  on  to 
the  Colorado  river. 

Passing  a  bush  grown  valley,  we  commence  to  climb  a  moder 
ately  steep  grade,  but  soon  reach  the  mountains,  and  on  looking 
towards  the  clouds,  in  the  distance,  we  see  a  circular  rim  of  earth 
and  snow  sheds,  that  marks  the  onward  course  of  the  road. 
The  track  doubles  time  and  again  on  itself,  but  gradually  we 
move  upwards  for  a  while  until  we  arrive  where  the  grade  is  very 
steep,  the  curves  sharp  and  frequent,  arduous  toil  is  required  to 
gain  the  summit,  and  there  is  no  play  on  the  programme.  Two 
strong  engines  toil  and  pant,  tugging  us  up  the  winding  way 
through  snow-sheds  and  tangled,  half-dead  forest,  quivering  in  the 
snow  and  ice  around  them,  thus  up,  up  we  go  until  we  arrive  at  the 
summit  of  Marshall's  Pass,  more  than  two  miles  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  and  one  of  the  highest  railroad  points  in  America,— 26 
miles  up  grade  from  Salida,  2,185  miles  from  Utica,  and  1,365  miles 
from  San  Francisco. 

Looking  back  from  whence  we  came,  Mount  Ouray  stands  at  our 
left  as  a  sentinel,  looking  down  on  its  fellow-peaks,  like  a  ruffled 
granite  billow  sea  at  its  feet,  rudely  from  the  hand  of  nature  thrown. 

In  the  distance  is  the  Sangre  de  Christo  Range,  white  with  ever 
lasting  snow. 

The  great  San  Luis  Park  is  seen  also  reaching  to  the  horizon. 

Turning  our  face  to  the  west,  the  descent  is  still  more  rapid, 
sharp,  jagged  peaks  rise  up  from  below  in  wild  confusion,  and  seem 
to  threaten  immediate  destruction  in  an  awful  abyss  below,  should 
we  advance  another  step. 

The  fearless  engine  started  on,  and  gently  wound  around  a  point, 
and  followed  a  rim  cut  in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  displaying  ap 
parently  a  number  of  railroads  at  different  points  below,  winding, 
turning,  looping  around,  running  in  various  directions,  and  seem 
ing  to  have  no  connection  with  each  other.  Yet  still  a  look  up 
wards  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  gorge  would  often  bring  to  our 
view,  the  snow-sheds,  we  had  so  lately  passed. 

At  the  summit  one  engine,  with  the  baggage  and  tender  were  de 
tached  and  suffered  to  follow  on  behind.  The}7  were  nearly  all  the 
time  in  sight ;  and  always  passing  in  an  opposite  direction. 

Thus  descending  from  that  dizzy  height,  Avhere  five  miles'  travel 
scarce  advanced  us  one,  until  we  at  length,  struck  the  narrow  vale 
of  the  Tomichi  River,  and  followed  its  winding  course  down 
through  the  mountains  until  it  made  its  egress  into  a  wider  valley 
below  that  produced  a  little  coarse  grass,  the  first  that  has  been 
seen  for  over  200  miles. 

From  here  a  backward  glance  gives  the  traveler  an  idea  of  the 
vast  heights  overcome. 

Then  looking  forward,  Gunnison  appears  in  view,  where  the 
waters  of  the  Tomichi  unites  with  the  Gunnison  River,  arrivng 
at  the  town  at  9  A.  M. 


19 

This  is  the  most  important  manufacturing  and  commercial  City 
in  western  Colorado.  It  is  the  center  of  a  rich  gold,  silver,  coal, 
iron,  and  lead,  mining  country;  and  the  finest  steel  mills  in  the 
world  are  being  erected  here,  but  not  a  specie  of  vegatiori  of  any 
kind  is  seen  growing. 

Leaving  the  beautiful  plateau  on  which  Gunnison  is  located, 
we  at  once  immerged  into  the  Black  Canon,  and  pursue  its  dark 
and  winding  way  for  25  miles  through  some  of  the  most  thrilling, 
awe  inspiring  and  sublime  scenery  on  earth. 

This  gorge  is  grander,  deeper,  darker,  and  yet  more  beautiful 
than  the  one  we  have  left  behind.  It  is  thrice  as  long — dark 
hued — Displaying  many  colors,  yet  cheifly  composed  of  red  sand 
stone,  which  is  often  broken  off  into  shoulders  as  they  rise,  and 
in  the  crevices  bushes  and  vines  have  found  a  footing;  and  hang 
down  the  darkened  walls  over  head  as  a  sort  of  green  drapery, 
which  adds  much  to  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  As  we  advance  the 
cliffs  grow  higher  and  steeper,  and  suddenly  the  sunlight  is 
shut  off  by  the  overhanging  cliffs  above.  The  gorge  narrows 
up  so  much  that  there  is  scarcely  room  for  the  river  and  the  car 
track,  which  hugs  closely  to  the  rugged  walls,  while  the  river 
rolls  and  thunders  at  our  feet. 

With  a  shudder,  and  awe  inspiring  feeling,  we  look  around  us, 
and  behold  we  are  held  fast  in  the  embrace  of  this  great  abyss ; 
with  walls  more  than  half  a  mile  high  hanging  directly  over  our 
heads,  while  the  track  is  cut  straight  through  the  solid  rock. 

The  canon  has  sharp  curves,  and  sometimes  widens  out  and 
displays  steep  crags  that  tower  heavenward  two  or  three  thousand 
feet. 

The  most  abrupt  and  isolated  of  these  pinacles  is  Currecanti 
Needle.  It  has  a  perfect  symmetry  of  an  obelisk,  composed  of 
red  sandstone,  and  is  near  3,000  feet  high. 

Following  the  channel  of  the  Gunnison  down  fifteen  miles,  we 
leave  it  to  the  right,  and  strike  Cimarron  Creek,  which  has  a  nar 
rower  channel,  with  walls  equally  as  high,  and  nearly  shut  together 
overhead,  to  the  bottom  of  which  the  rays  of  the  sun  never  reach. 
Magnificence  supplants  detail,  and  the  place  appeals  to  our  deep 
est  feelings.  Emerging  from,  the  canon,  Cimarron  Station  appeared. 
Passing  on  we  at  once  commmenced  to  climb  the  Cedar  Divide,  by 
loops,  steep  grades  and  windings,  until  the  summit  of  these  barren, 
naked  and  sandy-clay  mountains  was  reached. 

From  here  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  Uncompahgre  Valley.  De 
scending  by  looping  around,  we  reached  the  plain  below,  which  is 
composed  of  white,  sandy  clay,  destitute  of  every  vestige  of  vege 
tation,  and  nothing  but  utter  nakedness  appeared,  except  here  and 
there  a  scattering  sage.  This  continues  ten  miles  to  Montrose,  on 
the  Uncompahgre  River,  where  is  a  little  iertile  spot. 

Following  the  banks  of  this  river  ten  miles  more,  where  utter 
nakedness  reigns,  it  brings  us  to  Delta,  where  we  strike  the  Gun 
nison  River  again.  The  lands  in  this  great  Uncompahgre  Valley 
are  rich,  but  will  not  produce  the  least  thing  without  irrigation, 
they  belong  to  the  Ute  Reservation. 


20 

Following  the  banks  of  this  river  25  miles  more  through  these 
rich  unoccupied  lands,  and  passing  the  lower  canon  of  the  Gunni- 
son,  we  arrived  at  the  Grand  Junction,  on  the  Grand  River,  and 
crossed  over  to  the  north  bank.  We  have  now  reached  an  utter 
desolation.  A  veritable  desert,  continues  for  near  150  miles.  Low, 
treeless,  dry  and  neglected  waste ;  uninhabited  by  man  or  beast. 
We  are  on  a  billowy  desert  where  the  winds  have  formed  billows 
of  sand,  and  not  a  vestige  of  verdure  for  the  eye  to  rest  upon  in 
any  direction. 

We  crossed  the  line  into  Utah  as  the  sun  sank  beneath  the  hori 
zon,  away  on  the  trackless  desert.  We  here  left  the  banks  of  the 
Grand  River,  and  steered  southwest  to  shun  the  Book  Mountains, 
then  bore  to  the  northwest  and  crossed  the  Green  River* at  Guii- 
nison  Point  about  10  p.  M.  From  here  we  took  a  northwest  course, 
and  struck  the  Valley  of  Price  River,  at  lower  Price  River  Cross 
ing.  From  here  we  followed  up  the  valley  of  the  river  till  mid 
night,  when  the  train  stopped,  and  the  cry  was  made,  "behold 
Castle  Canon,  and  Castle  Gate,  and  the  giant  lofty  cliffs  and  pina- 
cles  that  rear  their  heads  around  you  ! " 

We  have  wound  and  turned  with  the  river  on  a  gentle  grade, 
until  now  we  have  arrived  at  the  gateway  that  leads  directly  into 
the  very  heart  of  the  Wasatch  Mountains.  In  the  bright  starlight 
we  viewed  this  stupenduous  work  of  nature.  The  gateway  is 
formed  by  two  immense  towers  of  red  sandstone,  one  rising  direct 
Irom  the  water's  edge,  and  the  other  close  by  the  side  of  the  car 
track,  barely  leaving  room  between  for  the  river  and  the  track. 
They  rise  in  open  relief  like  obelisks,  or  church  spires  to  the  aston 
ishing  height  of  nearly  500  feet.  They  firmly  stand  upon  their 
bases  as  silent  sentinels  of  nature,  placed  there  in  the  "long  ago," 
to  guide  the  red  man  through  the  canon  to  fertile  fields  beyond. 
It  was  down  Price  River  Canon  and  past  Castle  Gate,  that  Sidney 
Johnson  marched  his  army  home  from  Utah. 

When  through  the  narrow  way,  we  commenced  to  climb  the 
steep  grade  of  Price  River  Canon.  The  road  follows  one  stream 
and  then  an  other  until  we  arrived  at  Soldier's  Summit,  on  the  very 
top  or  the  range.  Then  like  a  kite  in  its  downward  flight,  darting 
to  and  fro,  we  glide  down  Soldier's  Canon,  through  the  Red  Nar 
rows,  Spanish  Fork  Canon  and  emerge  into  Utah  Valley,  near 
Utah  Lake,  and  stop  at  Provo  City,  a  favorite  watering  place,  and 
one  of  many  attractions. 

The  River  Jordan  rises  in  this  lake,  flows  north  into  Salt  Lake, 
separating  Salt  Lake  Valley  from  Salt  Lake  Basin.  The  railway 
leads  along  the  banks  of  the  River  Jordan  to  Salt  Lake  City,  where 
I  arrived  at  break  of  day  Saturday,  September,  29th,  1883,  and  by 
the  way  of  our  route,  2,685  miles  irom  Utica.  Since  leaving  the 
valley  ot  the  Republican  River  in  Nebraska,  for  more  than  a  thou 
sand  miles  not  a  cultivated  field  has  been  seen,  and  some  of  the 
distance  a  parched  up  desert.  The  wealth  of  this  region  consists 
in  the  inexhaustible  and  untold  value  of  its  mines. 

After  breakfast  at  the  Rio  Grande  Hotel,  I  went  about  the  town, 
which  is  really  a  city  of  gardens,  trees,  shrubs,  vines,  lawns,  etc. 


21 

Cereals  and  vegetables  of  all  kinds  are  also  raised.  It  is  truly  a 
paradise,  an  arcade  of  beauty  and  loveliness;  where  the  desert 
blossoms  like  the  rose.  It  is  laid  out  in  regular  squares,  with 
broad  streets,  embowered  with  trees,  and  water  coursing  through 
them  all  which  is  used  for  irrigating  purposes ;  without  this  noth 
ing  would  grow.  The  houses  are  built  of  wood,  brick  and  adobe, 
all  presenting  a  neat,  clean  and  tidy  appearance. 

I  walked  into  a  nursery  containing  a  great  variety  of  fruit  trees 
ready  for  transplanting,  and  noticing  ripened  fruits  in  an  adjoining 
fruit  garden,  my  footsteps  led  me  to  the  door  where  I  asked  Mrs. 
W.  L.  Binder  the  favor  of  tasting  the  fruit  of  the  land.  She  sent 
a  secondary  lady  out  who  brought  me  a  handful  of  delicious  plums 
and  a  few  clusters  of  very  fine  grapes.  I  inquired  after  the  differ 
ent  varieties  of  fruit  produced.  She  said,  apples,  pears,  peaches, 
apricots,  plums,  gooseberries,  currants,  strawberries,  raspberries, 
nectarines  and  melons  of  various  kinds,  and  all  of  fine  qualities.  I 
also  inquired  a  little  after  their  domestic  happiness  in  their  mode 
of  life.  She  replied  we  are  a  simple-minded  people,  and  once  trusted 
everybody  ;  but  have  so  often  been  betrayed  that  we  now  distrust 
all  strangers.  I  told  her  my  first  season  ot  teaching  was  in  a  settle 
ment  of  friendly  Mormons  in  the  east,  and  I  still  retained  that 
friendship,  although  poligamy  at  that  time  was  not  known  in  the 
church.  She  then  replied,  we  mind  our  own  business,  let  others 
alone,  take  care  of  all  our  children,  and  none  of  them  are  a  public 
charge,  (which  many  Gentiles  do  not  do.)  We  support  our  own 
wives  and  do  not  ask  aid  from  the  Gentiles;  yet  we  are  constantly 
persecuted  for  our  religious  sentiments.  To  the  question,  how  did 
Brigham  Young  find  this  promised  land  ?  She  replied,  it  was 
revealed  to  Joseph  Smith  and  he  conveyed  the  knowledge  to  Brig- 
ham  Young.  This  conversation  was  at  Second  South  street, 
between  Third  and  Fourth  West  streets. 

I  next  walked  into  the  beautiful  flower  lawns  and  gardens  of 
Governor  Murrey,  of  Utah  Territory.  The  lawn  was  daily  watered 
and  the  grass  under  my  feet  felt  like  a  plush  carpet.  But  two 
slight  showers  of  rain  had  fallen  from  April  to  October.  Flowers 
were  abundant,  pears  were  very  fine,  and  grapes  hung  in  lucious 
clusters,  the  Black  Hamburg,  White  Muskat  of  Alexander,  Mus- 
catillo,  and  a  large  class  of  Sweetwaters.  The  gardener  gave  me  a 
few  clusters  of  each,  and  I  should  have  called  them  all  Sweetwaters. 
They  made  my  heart  glad.  Mayor  Jennings'  residence  is  a  very 
fine  structure. 

A  few  steps  farther  up  the  street  I  stood  admiring  the  beautiful, 
unoccupied  former  residence  of  George  G.  T.  Canon,  belonging 
now  to  the  church.  While  standing  there,  Mr.  John  Nebecker 
commenced  conversation,  which  continued  an  hour ;  in  which  he 
said  he  was  among  the  first  to  reach  that  place.  They  started  in 
April,  1847,  some  in  wagons,  some  on  horseback,  others  on  foot, 
and  some  had  even  hand-carts  for  a  thousand  miles'  journey.  An 
account  of  their  toils,  sufferings  and  privations  would  seem  to  be 
the  exaggeration  of  romance.  The  second  year  after  their  arrival 
they  got  a  little  growing,  and  the  crickets  swarmed  down  from  the 


22 

mountains  and  commenced  to  devastate  everything.  He  sat  on  an 
eminence  contemplating  what  to  do,  heard  a  sqalling,  and  on  look 
ing  up  saw  a  cloud  of  gulls  that  lit  down  and  destroyed  them  all 
and  the  crops  were  saved.  But  sometimes  they  devastated  every 
thing.  He  said  that  polygamy  was  not  at  first  introduced  into  the 
church,  but  it  seemed  right  that  all  should  have  homes  and  be  pro 
vided  for,  and  no  one  had  a  right  to  take  more  wives  than  he  could 
well  support.  I  told  him  that  women  were  naturally  sovereign, 
and  I  could  not  see  how  it  could  be  reconciled.  He  replied  :  True 
they  some  times  are  compelled  to  bite  their  lips,  but  being  a  church 
ordinance  they  endure  it.  He  said  that  the  very  men  who  met  in 
the  legislature  to  make  laws  to  disfranchise  them,  might  perhaps 
be  guilty  of  equal  crimes,  if  not  worse,  under  a  different  name. 

Temple  Square  next  claimed  my  attention.  It  comprises  ten 
acres  of  ground,  and  on  it  are  the  Assembly  Hall,  Tabernacle  and 
New  Temple. 

The  Assembly  Hall  is  built  of  granite,  is  120  by  86  feet,  and 
has  20  graceful  minarets,  each  twenty  feet  high,  and  the  spire  has  an 
altitude  of  126  feet.  The  ceiling  is  40  feet  above  the  floor.  The 
room  will  seat  40,000  people.  The  Tabernacle  is  a  masterpiece  of 
architectural  skill.  It  is  in  oval  form  250  by  150  feet  on  the 
ground.  It  has  one  great  roof  rounding  on  top,  resting  on  46 
pillars  of  Red  Sand  Stone ;  and  springs  from  side  to  side,  and  from 
end  to  end,  with  a  single  stride  80  feet  above  the  floor,  made 
of  lattice  work  10  feet  thick  and  bolted  together.  It  is  the 
largest  self-sustaining  roof  in  America,  except  the  Great  Union 
Depot  in  New  York.  In  the  west  end  on  an  elevated  portion 
stands  the  great  organ,  second  in  size  on  the  continent. 

On  the  right  and  left  of  the  organ  are  seats  for  a  choir  of 
100  persons,  resting  on  a  broad  platform  in  front,  approached 
by  a  flight  of  steps ;  at  the  right  hand  of  which,  and  rising  one 
above  the  other,  are  also  other  seats,  reserved  for  the  priests 
and  dignitaries  of  the  church. 

The  first  one  for  the  President.  2d.  For  the  12  Apostles. 
3d.  For  the  presidency  of  the  High  Priests  and  Seventies.  4th. 
For  Bishops  and  Elders  who  administer  the  Sacrament,  the  table 
standing  immediately  in  front  of  them,  from  which  they 
administer  every  Sabbath  afternoon. 

The  galleries  will  seat  3,750  people.  The  whole  seating 
capacity  is  13,452;  including  standing  room  it  will  accommodate 
15,000  people. 

There  are  20  doors  9  feet  wide,  opening  outside,  and  the 
most  minute  sound  can  be  heard  all  over  the  house. 

In  the  northwest  corner  of  Temple  Square,  stands  the 
Endowment  House,  where  the  marriages  are  solemnized.  Strangers 
never  enter  there. 

The  New  Temple  when  completed,  will  be  one  of  the  most 
substantial  and  beautiful  edifices  in  the  world,  probably 
designed  to  stand  as  a  monument  to  Brigham  Young,  architect 
ural  skill,  perseverance  and  enterprise,  until  time  shall  be  no- 
more.  The  foundation  walls  are  laid  16  feet  below  the  surface, 


23 

and  are  16  feet  in  thickness,  of  reddish  quartzite,  of  great 
hardness.  The  walls  are  built  of  cut  stone,  nine  feet  nine  inches  in 
thickness,  of  a  light  gray  granite.  The  Temple  is  200  feet  long, 
117  feet  wide,  and  is  to  have  three  towers  at  each  end,  those  on 
the  east  and  west  corners,  to  rise  to  an  altitude  of  200  feet.  Each 
containing  a  stairway  winding  around  a  column  four  feet  in 
diameter.  The  corner  stone  was  laid  April  6th,  1853. 

It  is  estimated  that  it  will  take  thirty  years  more  to  complete 
the  work.  Over  $3,000,000  have  already  been  expended.  Scores 
of  workmen  add  a  little  to  it  daily,  and  it  bids  fair  to  be  the 
crowning  glory  of  the  west. 

Crossing  the  street  from  Temple  Square,  I  came  to  another 
walled  enclosure  surrounding  the  buildings  of  the  late  Brigham 
Young. 

The  Tithing  Department,  where  one-tenth  of  all  products  are 
brought  for  the  benefit  of  the  church. 

The  Lion  House  and  Bee  Hive,  two  low  yellow  tinged,  dormer 
windowed  buildings,  stand  close  together  near  the  street. 

The  Lion  House  was  used  by  President  Young  as  an  office ;  it 
is  still  occupied  by  President  Taylor  for  the  same  purpose.  I 
noticed  pictures  of  dignitaries  of  the  church  hanging  upon  the 
walls. 

In  the  Bee  Hive  President  Young  lived  with  his  several  wives. 
I  walked  about  the  yard  surrounding  these  buildings  in  deep 
reflection. 

Next  to  the  Bee  Hive  is  Eagle  Gate,  ornamented  by  a  huge 
gilded  eagle,  resting  on  massive  beams,  that  rest  again  on  four 
granite  posts. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  is  President  Taylor's  residence 
and  flower  lawns.  For  neatness,  taste,  and  architectual  beauty, 
this  stands  first  among  the  residences.  The  mercantile  business 
of  this  city  is  immense  for  a  city  of  25,000  inhabitants. 

The  Zion's  Co-operative  Mercantile  Institution,  controlled  by 
the  Mormons,  stands  first  among  the  business  houses ;  it  is  of 
brick,  318  feet  long  by  53  feet  wide,  with  an  addition  of  195  feet 
long  by  25  feet  wide.  The  Waker  Brothers  have  a  large 
mercantile  business,  and  the  sales  of  the  two  aggregate  over 
$5,000,000  yearly. 

One  of  Zions  clerk's  took  me  through  their  departments,  and 
from  the  third  story  window  I  had  a  fine  view  of  Fort  Douglass. 
The  market  is  supplied  with  everything  that  heart  could  wish. 

At  4.45  P.  M.,  I  took  the  cars  for  Great  Salt  Lake,  which  is  one 
of  the  great  wonders  of  creation.  The  mystery  brooding  around 
it,  the  learned  can  not  dispel ;  no  matter  how  able  their  theories 
may  be. 

This  lake  has  various  rivers  of  fresh  water  constantly  pouring 
into  it  but  none  running  from  it.  The  water  is  so  salt  that  fish 
can  not  live  in  it,  being  about  one-fourth  per  cent ;  and  so  dense 
that  its  surface  is  seldom  ruffled  by  the  wind.  Spread  out  like  a 
mighty  mirror,  it  lies  inert,  simmering  in  the  sunlight  all  the 
day.  On  the  mountains  surrounding  it,  are  three  distinct  water 


24 

washes,  which  show  that  the  lake  has  receded  from  its  original 
bounds,  or  the  mountains  have  been  raised  up  by  volcanic 
action.  Turning  our  thoughts  again  to  the  cars  we  passed 
through  sage  bush  twenty  miles  to  the  foot  of  the  Wasatch 
mountains  where  we  struck  the  lake.  The  dressing  rooms  were 
opened,  the  bathing  suits  adjusted,  and  fourteen  gentlemen  and  six 
ladies  appeared  on  the  platform  ready  for  the  water.  As  the 
gentlemen  led  the  young  ladies  down  a  flight  of  stairs,  their 
elastic  steps,  well  rounded  forms,  and  delicate  limbs,  indicated 
that  they  were  as  fleet  as  the  wild  Gazelle ;  and  I  expected  to  see 
them  shoot  away  like  some  fairy  nymph  of  the  deep.  But  O  ! 
with  all  their  model  forms  and  symetrical  beauty,  they  were  not 
experts  in  swimming.  They  universally  swam  on  their  backs, 
lying  straight  as  a  board  on  the  water;  making  no  motions  with 
their  feet,  merely  paddling  with  their  hands  over  their  heads. 
Returned  at  8  p.  M. 

Brigham  Young  did  not  encourage  prospecting  for  minerals; 
but  since  the  advent  of  the  railroads  the  attention  of  the  people 
has  turned  in  that  direction.  Rich  deposits  of  gold,  silver,  lead, 
iron,  copper,  coal,  zinc,  cinnabar,  antimony,  brimstone,  gypsum, 
soda  and  some  others,  have  been  developed,  and  yield  rich 
returns.  Salt  can  be  shoveled  up  about  Salt  Lake,  and  as  the 
lake  is  90  miles  long  and  40  miles  wide,  and  one-fourth  of  its 
bulk  actual,  salt,  the  nation  is  provided  with  this  article  for 
untold  ages.  Utah  will  soon  be  numbered  among  the  richest 
mining  division  of  the  Union. 


Sunday  September  30,  at  2  p.  M.,  I  was  seated  by  Mr.  John 
Nebecker,  in  the  Mormon  Tabernacle,  directly  in  front  of  the 
choir,  and  dignitaries  of  the  church.  President  Taylor  entering 
the  door,  the  choir  accompanied  by  the  organ,  rendered  the  hymn, 
"  Earth  with  its  Ten  Thousand  Flowers." 

Prayer  by  Herbert  Grant,  followed  by  music  again,  "How 
Dark  and  Dreary  was  the  Night." 

The  seven  Bishops  then  broke  the  bread,  instead  of  cutting  it. 
Thanks  was  then  rendered ;  and  while  the  bread  was  being 
passed  through  the  multitude,  a  son  of  the  late  Brigham  Young 
arose  and  said,  in  some  respects  I  am  pleased  to  address  you,  I, 
in  connection  with  others  have  received  a  revelation  that  the 
second  coming  of  Christ  is  at  hand. 

I  am  not  taught  that  those  out  of  the  church  of  the  Latter 
Day  Saints  are  destined  to  destruction,  but  that  all  shall  receive 
according  to  their  works.  We  believe  that  we  lived  before  we 
were  born;  and  shall  live  on  after  death;  and  live  here  again. 
We  have  no  knowledge  of  what  was  before  birth,  but  shall  know 
after  death. 

This  is  a  probationary  state  to  know  good  from  evil,  and,  to 
prepare  for  an  everlasting  existence.  A  state  of  trial  to  prove 
ourselves,  and  listen  to  the'  spirit  of  revelation.  People  call  that 
spirit  conscience.  Joseph  Smith,  when  a  boy  but  14  years  of  ag, 


25 

directed  by  inspiration  to  the  book  of  Mormon.  And  his 
prophecies,  that  we  should  multiply  and  become  a  mighty  people, 
and  build  up  Zion  in  the  west,  it  is  a  prophecy  that  I  have  lived 
to  see  fulfilled. 

On  the  24th  day  of  July,  1847,  143  men  came  down  yonder  canon 
on  to  a  desert  plain  1,000  miles  from  any  civilized  abode,  and  in  30 
years  they  numbered  143,000.  In  30  years  more,  at  the  same 
ratio  we  shall  number  143,000,000.  This  people  will  honor  the 
laws  that  be,  but  in  time  they  will  govern  the  nation.  A  moment's 
pause  and  a  blessing  was  asked  on  the  water,  the  bishops  then 
served  it. 

In  1843,  Joseph  Smith  and  John  Fessidan  prophesied  that  a  war 
would  be  waged  in  our  midst,  and  this  was  familiar  with  us  until 
it  took  place.  And  still  destruction  awaits  this  nation  unless  they 
repent.  Joseph  Smith  sacrificed  his  life  to  save  the  people.  We 
send  out  our  elders,  and  people  deride  us  for  sending  out  ignorant 
men.  If  we  could  save  the  money  we  are  forced  to  spend  in  the 
law,  we  could  educate  all  the  children  in  the  country.  I  have 
known  nothing  but  persecution  on  account  of  plural  marriage. 
But  who  has  violated  the  law  of  1882  ?  I  am  disfranchised.  I  am 
no  man.  I  have  been  voted  out  of  existence.  What  can  I  do  now 
with  my  three  wives  and  four  sons? 

Joseph  Nicholson  then  arose  and  preached  a  regular  discourse, 
being  so  near  allied  to  what  we  hear  in  other  churches,  I  took  few 
notes ;  still  I  noticed  that  he  said,  the  latter  day  saints  claim  that 
the  prophecies  of  the  scriptures  are  fulfilled  in  these  latter  days. 
We  also  claim  to  preach  the  same  gospel  that  was  preached  by  the 
Apostles;  yet  we  are  set  aside  without  investigation,  persecuted 
and  disfranchised  unheard.  They. closed  by  singing,  which  was 
quite  sublime. 

From  whence  did  this  sect  arise  that  has  turned  the  world 
upside  down  ?  Joseph  Smith,  born  in  Vermont,  removed  to  central 
New  York,  and  at  the  age  of  15,  commenced  to  see  mysterious 
things  in  vision.  At  the  age  of  22  he  declared  he  had  a  revelation 
from  on  high,  making  known  to  him  the  hiding  place  of  a  metal 
book,  written  with  Egyptian  characters,  which  Smith  pretended  to 
translate — the  mysterious  "Book  of  Mormon" — and  declared  it  to 
be  a  new  gospel.  I  have  read  some  in  the  book.  It  is  written 
in  the  style  of  the  Old  Testament  of  our  Bible.  His  followers  did 
not  discard  our  Bible,  but  always  preached  from  it,  and  claimed  to 
adhere  closely  to  its  teachings ;  yet  still  held  that  the  "  Book  of 
Mormon"  was  an  accompaniment.  It  has  been  said  by  some  that 
the  "  Book"  was  written  by  a  man  named  Spaul ding,  yet  I  think 
it  was  never  proven. 

Smith  callel  his  followers  to  Jackson  County,  the  extreme  west 
ern  portion  of  Missouri,  and  told  them  all  the  western  country  was 
designed  for  their  inheritance.  In  1833  he  had  1,200  followers. 
This  sudden  influx  of  polygamists  excited  jealousy  in  the  minds  of 
the  Missourians,  and  they  rose  in  a  body,  and  without  resistance 
drove  them  all  out  of  the  State.  They  migrated  east,  crossed  the 
Mississippi  a  little  above  the  mouth  of  the  Des  Moines  River  into 


26 

Illinois,  where  on  a  bluff,  they  formed  the  beautiful  city  of  Nauvoo 
in  1840,  erecting  there  a  magnificent  temple.  Large  numbers 
flocked  to  their  city ;  including  men  of  wealth  and  influence,  until 
they  numbered  10,000.  The  lllinoisians  became  suspicious  of  their 
increasing  power,  brought  accusations  against  the  Mormons  and 
their  leaders,  arrested  Joseph  Smith  and  his  brother,  and  incarcer 
ated  them  at  Carthage.  The  popular  fury  was  so  great  that  a  mob 
broke  into  the  jail,  "and  murdered  them  both  on  July  7th,  1844. 
Joseph  Smith's  cloak,  at  his  death,  fell  upon  Brigham  Young.  The 
odium  against  them  was  so  great,  and  persecution  so  virulent,  that 
they  eventually  sold  their  possessions  in  Illinois  and  deserted  their 
city. 

Brigham  Young  at  once  stepped  to  the  front,  seized  the  helm,, 
and  rescued  the  church  from  utter  dissolution.  He  called  the 
chief  dignitaries  together,  laid  his  plans  before  them  to  migrate  ta 
Mexico  Territory,  and  build  up  Zion  in  the  Valley  of  Great  Salt 
Lake,  entirely  isolated,  1,000  miles  from  any  civilization.  It  is  a 
miracle  of  miracles,  how  they  ever  accomplished  this  journey  over 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  across  the  plains. 

Brigham  Young,  late  president  and  prophet  of  the  Mormon 
"  Church  of  the  Latter  Day  Saints,"  was  born  in  Vermont,  June 
1st,  1801.  Reared  a  Methodist,  occupation  a  carpenter.  Married 
in  1824,  and  in  18-30  first  saw  "The  Book  of  Mormon."  In  1832 
he  was  baptized  by  Joseph  Smith  and  became  a  member  of  the 
church,  the  good  of  which  was  always  the  first  and  foremost  in  all 
his  undertakings.  He  possessed  decision  of  character,  yet  at  the 
same  time  the  more  tender  and  moral  virtues,  a  great  financier,  a 
promoter  of  "internal  improvements,"  a  natural  architect,  a  man 
of  the  soundest  judgment,  his  plans  when  carried  out  always 
accomplishing  the  end  for  which  they  were  laid.  He  was  far  see 
ing,  and  could  look  to  the  end  before  the  beginning  was  commenced. 
He  was  venturous,  and  plunged  into  the  most  obscure  plans  and 
always  came  out  in  daylight  on  the  other  side. 

On  July  24th,  1847,  he  arrived  at  Great  Salt  Lake  Valley,  the 
sage  covered  plain,  where  few  had  ever  trod,  and  on  July  21st, 
Great  Salt  Lake  City  was  laid  out.  In  1848  the  Republic  of  Mex 
ico  ceded  the  territory  to  the  United  States. 

In  1850  President  Fillmore  appointed  Brigham  Young  governor 
of  Utah  Territory.  The  Mormons  afterwards  were  not  willing  to 
recognize  any  other  authority,  and  set  at  defiance  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  United  States  over  them. 

In  the  fall  of  1857  President  Buchanan  dispatched  2,500  men  to 
enforce  acknowledgment.  While  in  winter  quarters,  embassadors 
were  sent  to  the  Mormons  with  proposals  of  pardon  in  case  of  their 
acknowledging  the  authority  of  the  government.  They  accepted 
the  terms. 

In  1862  Joseph  Morris  rose  up  and  claimed  to  be  the  true 
Prophet  of  God  instead  of  Brigham  Young.  He  had  390  follow 
ers.  The  Mormon  Legions  under  Robert  T.  Burton  attacked  them 
in  their  defenceless  state,  shot  down  their  leader,  Joseph  Morris, 
and  twenty  or  thirty  more.  The  Morrisites  were  then  all  taken  to 
Salt  Lake  City  as  slaves. 


27 

In  March,  1863,  Hon.  S.  S.  Harding  arrived  as  Governor,  and 
pardoned  them  all. 

Brigham  Young  has  taken  a  conspicuous  part  in  every  public  im 
provement,  assisting  in  forming  stage  lines  and  express  companies, 
and  when  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad  was  being  built,  he  graded 
150  miles  of  track,  erected  several  hundred  miles  of  the  Western 
Union  Telegraph,  and  was  first  and  foremost  in  every  laudable 
pursuit.  He  built  the  Brigham  Young  Academy  at  Frovo,  and 
amply  endowed  it  some  years  before  his  death.  And  later  in  life 
he  deeded  a  farm  near  Logan  City,  of  9,643'  acres,  under  a  good 
state  of  cultivation,  to  trustees  in  trust,  to  endow  a  college  located 
at  that  city,  to  be  called  "Brigham  Young  College." 

August  29th.,  1877,  at  the  age  of  76,  he  died,  deeply  regretted 
by  his  followers,  and  much  admired  by  the  world  at  large.  His 
name  will  ever  stand  upon  the  pages  of  history,  as  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  men  of  the  19th  century. 

I  sought  his  resting-place  ;  and  passing  through  the  Eagle  Gate 
near  the  Bee  Hive,  walked  up  a  narrow  street,  turned  to  the  right, 
and  entered  a  walled  enclosure,  which  is  divided  into  four  parts ; 
three  of  which  lay  waste.  It  is  a  private  burying-ground. 

The  southeast  quarter  is  covered  with  a  grass  lawn,  destitute  of 
shrubs  or  flowers,  but  tastefully  divided  up  by  concrete  walks. 
Close  in  the  south-east  corner  of  this  lawn  is  a  hidden  vault  of  ma 
son  work,  covered  with  a  large  flag-stone,  on  which  stands  an  orna 
mental  iron  picketed  railing.  Beneath  this  stone,  silent  and  alone, 
without  a  word  to  tell  of  his  eventful  life,  in  peace  rests  the  ashes  of 
the  late  priest  and  prophet,  Brigham  Young.  I  bowed  over  the  rail 
ing  in  deep  and  solemn  thought.  The  great  has  fallen.  An  active, 
busy  life  has  closed.  I  have  tried  to  tell  his  virtues.  Others  have 
labored  harder  to  inflate  his  vices.  Here,  now,  side  by  side,  both 
virtues  and  vices,  with  his  ashes  rest.  And  the  great  Ruler  above, 
only,  has  the  right  to  judge  between. ' 

Near  the  close  of  the  day  I  took  the  street  car  to  the  medical 
warm  springs.  The  water  has  a  temperature  of  102  degrees  F., 
and  is  used  much  in  plunge  baths.  The  hot  springs  are  about 
three  miles  farther  on,  having  a  temperature  of  180  F.,  and  are  not 
a  watering  place,  neither  do  street  cars  approach  any  nearer.  Sup 
posing  this  to  be  the  objective  point  when  taking  the  cars,  I 
proposed  to  walk  the  remaining  portion.  The  boys  would  not  go. 
I  arrived  about  sunset.  The  springs  flow  out  directly  from  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  1,200  feet  above;  forming  a  stream  six  inches 
deep  and  several  feet  wide.  There  is  a  green,  slimy  substance  sur 
rounding  the  spring,  and  the  water  was  so  hot  I  could  not  hold  my 
hand  in  it. 

Returning,  when  I  entered  the  city  it  was  dark,  and  the  thick 
growth  of  trees  on  both  sides  the  streets,  added  much  to  the 
opaqueness  of  the  scene.  Weary  and  thirsty,  I  stopped  at  a  house 
for  drink.  The  floor  was  carpeted,  a  piece  of  music  stood  there, 
and  everything  was  neat  and  in  order,  and  bespoke  the  greatest 
degree  of  domestic  happiness.  Her  husband  was  one  of  the  bish 
ops.  There  are  21  wards  in  the  city,  and  a  bishop  in  each  one.  I 


28 

told  her  I  had  nothing  against  their  doctrine  and  religion  except 
polygamy,  and  that  I  could  not  recognize.  She  said  she  was  one 
of  two  wives,  and  it  was  not  always  pleasant,  but  it  was  an  ordi 
nance  of  the  church,  and  they  submitted  to  it.  One  word  more 
and  I  leave  the  subject.  Light  dispels  darkness,  and  this  institu 
tion  will  soon  vanish  away.  I  found  my  way  to  the  Rio  Grande 
Hotel — Joseph  Smith  proprietor — and  retired  for  the  night. 


Monday,  October  1st,  1883. — At  7  A.  M.  I  took  my  way  through, 
-a  cultivated,  broad  expansive  plain,  36  miles  north  to  Ogden. 
This  is  the  junction  of  the  Union  and  Central  Pacific  railroads, 
1,032  miles  from  Omaha,  and  from  San  Francisco,  882.  The  Utah 
Central,  and  the  Utah  Northern  railroads  also  have  a  junction  here, 
and  things  of  every  nature  change  cars.  A  full  hour  here  gives 
passengers  ample  time  to  eat  a  good  square  meal  for  $1.00.  The 
citizens  are  Mormons,  have  a  tabernacle,  and  all  public  improve 
ments  are  supervised  by  them.  Population,  6.500.  Irrigation  has 
made  it  one  great  garden  of  fruit  and  flowers. 

All  on  board,  we  started  west,  having  Great  Salt  Lake  on  the 
left,  and  the  Wasatch  Mountains  on  the  right,  rising  thousands  of 
feet  above  us.  Some  hundreds  of  feet  up  on  the  side  of  the  moun 
tains,  plainly  visible  from  the  cars,  is  seen  the  old  water  wash  of 
the  lake,  stretching  along  in  one  unbroken  line  for  many  miles, 
which  shows  that  this  lake  was  once  a  mighty  sea,  in  the  untold 
millions  of  ages  past,  and  covered  all  the  Great  American  Desert, 
Salt  Lake  Valley,  and  all  of  Great  Salt  Lake  Basin.  This  is  no 
creation  of  the  imagination.  The  well  worn  rocks,  pebbles,  and 
lines  of  marine  shells,  demonstrate  this  fact  beyond  question. 
Below  the  first  line  are  two  more,  which  show  that  the  lake  had 
three  altitudes  before  reaching  its  present  level.  Advancing  fiiteen 
miles  farther  we  arrived  at  the  Mormon  town  of  Willard,  contain 
ing  700  inhabitants.  On  the  mountain  near  by  is  the  crater  of  an 
extinct  volcano.  All  is  barren,  and  lava  lies  around  it. 

Brigham  is  the  next  Mormon  town,  embowered  in  fruit  trees. 
They  have  a  tabernacle,  but  no  saloons.  Population,  1,800 

Call's  Fork  is  noted  for  its  many  springs  flowing  from  the  base 
of  the  mountain,  some  cold,  others  very  hot ;  also  for  alkali  beds. 

The  road  now  crosses  Bear  River,  on  a  trestle  bridge,  1,200  feet 
long,  over  water  18  feet  deep,  and  brings  us  to  Corinne,  24  miles 
from  Ogden.  Thus  far  we  have  followed  close  by  the  side  of  the 
Utah  Northern,  which  now  turns  directly  north  and  leaves  us. 
The  water  of  the  Malad  River  is  brought  1 1  miles  to  the  city,  irri 
gating  thousands  of  acres,  and  propelling  a  mill  that  produces  four 
tons  of  flour  daily. 

Westward  we  strike  the  white,  barren  alkali  beds  near  the  lake, 
and  the  excavated  channel  beside  the  road  is  filled  with  a  reddish 
looking  water.  One  sip  of  it  satisfies  a  man  for  a  lifetime.  After 
following  these  loathsome  deposits  along  the  lake  20  miles,  we  cross 
Blue  Creek,  on  a  trestle  bridge,  300  feet  long  and  30  feet  high. 

Then  we  begin  to  climb  Promontory  Mountain,  by  winding  and 


29 

turning,  and  through  deep  rock  cut3,  up,  up  we  go,  until  we  reach 
the  former  terminus  of  the  two  roads,  1,084  miles  from  Omahar 
and  830  miles  irom  San  Francisco.  Here,  on  the  10th  day  of  May, 
1869,  were  gathered  people  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe,  to 
witness  the  connection  of  this  iron  line  across  the  continent.  The 
last  tie  was  made  of  California  laurel,  plated  with  silver.  The  last 
rails  were  laid  by  parties  from  both  companies.  There  was  then 
provided  a  gold  spike  from  California,  a  silver  one  from  Nevada, 
and  one  of  gold,  silver  and  iron  from  Arizona.  A  hammer  of  sil 
ver  was  also  in  readiness,  and  at  12  M.  the  blows  were  struck  that 
connected  the  link,  and  the  telegraph  wires  throughout  the  Union 
quivered  with  the  glad  intelligence,  while  cheer  after  cheer,  rent 
the  air.  From  here  we  had  a  down  grade  eight  miles,  and  struck 
the  lake  again,  and  travel  on  the  shore  16  miles  to  Monument^ 
where  alkaline  and  saline  odors  are  offensive  to  invalids. 

Monument  Point  is  a  slim,  tapering  promontory  stretching  far  out 
into  the  lake,  covered  with  grass,  the  last  we  shall  see  for  many  a 
mile,  as  we  are  now  about  to  enter  the  Great  American  Desert.  A 
run  of  14  miles  more  carried  us  around  the  shore  of  the  western 
arm  of  the  lake,  and  we  saw  it  no  more. 

Kelton  stands  on  the  edge  of  the  desert.  It  has  large  water 
tanks  supplied  from  springs  some  miles  north.  Here  the  railroad 
company  fill  their  water  cars  daily,  to  supply  the  stations  on  the 
desert.  We  launched  out  from  Kelton  as  into  an  open  sea,  having 
mountains  all  the  time  in  sight  on  the  right,  and  the  desert  on  our 
left  appearing  as  though  the  lake  had  lately  covered  it,  and  receded 
far  back  many  miles  out  of  sight,  leaving  a  white  salt  beach,  as- 
smooth  as  a  plained  floor. 

The  alkali  spreads  over  the  broad,  smooth  surface  of  apparent 
beds  of  rivers  all  perfectly  dry,  and  as  white  as  the  driven  snow. 
The  eye  then  wandered  on  in  search  of  some  green  thing,  or  some 
thing  to  show  that  life  or  vegetation  ever  existed  there.  All  is 
desolate  in  the  extreme,  one  broad,  expansive  waste  of  apparent  salt, 
spread  out  as  smooth  as  a  canvas,  glistening  in  the  sun,  until  at  last 
the  vision  meets  the  horizon.  This  desert  was  evidently  once  the 
bed  of  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  it  slightly  slopes  that  way.  The 
same  water  wash  that  was  seen  at  Ogden  has  continued,  and  can 
be  distinctly  traced  on  the  same  level  all  the  way. 

For  the  next  60  miles  which  carries  us  to  the  Nevada  line,  the 
country  is  somewhat  mountainous  and  broken,  yet  it  can  be  said  to 
be  but  little  or  nothing  less  than  one  continuous  barren,  desolate 
waste,  not  capable  of  supporting  human  life.  At  the  Nevada  line 
is  a  castle  rock,  rising  directly  from  the  plain,  in  a  symetrical  form 
like  a  church  spire,  to  an  altitude  of  several  hundred  feet. 

Pilot's  Peak,  that  has  been  seen  for  the  last  50  miles,  is  now 
near  at  hand  on  the  left,  2,500  feet  above  the  plain. 

Nevada  has  mines  of  silver  and  coal,  but  raising  of  stock  is  the 
chief  occupation  of  the  inhabitants.  Twenty-five  miles  more 
brought  us  to  Cedar  Pass,  which  divides  the  desert  from  Humboldt 
Valley. 


30 

The  dreary  waste,  with  its  marine  shells  and  fossilized 
fragments  of  past  ages,  is  exchanged  for  vegetation  and  fountains 
of  water.  From  the  summit  of  Cedar  Pass,  we  had  a  down  grade 
311  miles,  following  the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  River  to 
Humboldt  Sink,  from  whence  the  waters  never  flow.  Grossing 
and  re-crossing  the  river  half  a  dozen  times  on  our  journey. 
Humboldt  Wells  are  2,940  miles  from  Utica,  and  664  mi'les  from 
San  Francisco,  where  the  emigrants  stopped  to  rest  and  recruit 
after  their  long  and  toilsome  journey  across  the  parching  desert. 
There  are  about  20  of  these  wells  gently  flowing.  They  have  been 
sounded  to  a  depth  of  20,000  feet,  yet  no  bottom  has  been 
reached.  They  are  supposed  to  be  the  craters  of  extinct 
volcanoes,  as  masses  of  lava,  and  broken  fragments  of  rocks  are 
hurled  in  chaotic  confusion  all  over  tlje  surrounding  country. 
Night  had  gathered  around  us,  but  still  we  moved  on  down  the 
grade,  and  soon  struck  the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  river.  This 
valley  is  extremely  rich,  bat  the  seasons  are  too  short  for 
cultivation. 

Elco  is  noted  for  its  shipment  of  cattle,  which  numbers  more 
than  any  other  station  on  the  road.  The  annual  shipments  from 
the  valley  are  500  car  loads.  Near  Elco  are  the  celebrated 
medical  springs,  some  are  so  hot  as  to  be  used  for  natural 
cauldrons  to  cook  food.  In  Hot  Springs  Valley,  eight  miles  from 
our  road,  are  an  hundred  hot  springs,  some  of  which  spout  water 
30  feet  in  the  air.  There  are  many  other  hot  springs  in  Nevada, 
but  we  pass  them  by  and  look  for  the  cause  that  produces  the 
lieat.  The  ignorant  suppose  they  are  places  of  escape  for  steam 
from  water  heated  by  the  internal  fires  forever  burning  below. 
Learned  philosophers  argue  that  mineral  in  solution  in  water, 
causes  all  the  disturbance.  Yet  I  have  found  some  that 
apparently  hold  no  mineral  in  solution,  which  explodes  their 
reasoning,  while  a  third  class  religiously  think  it  proceeds  from 
a  place  prepared  for  the  wicked.  One  knows  about  as  much  as 
the  other.  We  followed  the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  river  all 
night,  in  its  windings  and  turnings,  passing  some  sublime  scenery, 
arriving  at  the  town  of  Humboldt  for  breakfast.  Looking 
forward,  nothing  could  be  seen  but  barenness,  and  desolation,  and 
we  learned  we  were  on  the  edge  of  the  Great  Nevada  Desert, 
having  passed  300  miles  of  producing  country  since  leaving  the 
Grea:,  American  Desert.  Passing  on  again  we  soon  came  opposite 
Humboldt  Lake,  35  miles  long  and  10  miles  wide,  lying  in  the 
Great  Nevada  Basin,  and  has  no  outlet.  It  is  still  an  unsolved 
problem  what  becomes  of  its  waters,  as  the  Humboldt  river,  350 
miles  long,  with  all  its  tributaries  from  the  mountains,  is  con 
stantly  pouring  its  waters  in,  and  the  Carson  river  on  the  south 
discharging  a  large  volume  of  water  also  into  its  bosom,  yet  it 
never  rises  beyond  its  bounds.  There  are  many  lakes  of  the 
same  character  in  the  Great  Basin,  their  waters  being  slightly 
brackish  and  all  having  no  outlets. 

Leaving  Humboldt  and  Carson  lakes  behind,  we  move  directly 
out  on  to  the  desert  which  is  composed  of  brown  hills,  barren 


31 

sandy  plains,  lakes  without  outlets,  large  deposits  of  by  gone  ages, 
mixed  with  clay,  which  can  not  vegetate.  Fossil  remains  bearing 
evidence  of  past  submersion,  one  dreary  expansive  waste, 
destitute  of  wood  and  water.  At  White  Plains,  the  surface  is 
crusted  over  with  alkali,  sloping  off  towards  the  lakes,  and  the 
sun  shines  on  it  with  burning  rays.  Here  is  where  the  early 
traveler  so  often  chased  the  phantom  seen  in  the  distance,  green 
fields  and  rivers  of  water.  This  optical  delusion  is  called  mirage, 
and  has  led  many  a  traveler  astray  to  perish  on  the  burning  sands. 

This  Great  Desert  Basin  extends  from  Oregon  on  the  north, 
crossing  Nevada  and  Arizona  into  Mexico.  It  bears  the  same 
characteristics  all  the  way,  viz. ;  lava  beds,  alkali  flats,  hot  springs, 
barren  wastes,  cheerless  and  desolate. 

We  stopped  at  Reno  on  the  west  side  of  the  Desert  for  dinner, 
which  cost  a  dollar,  a  cup  of  coffee  alone  twenty-five  cents. 
Reno  is  a  business  place  at  the  junction  of  Virginia  and  Truckee 
railroad  with  the  Central  Pacific,  and  has  a  population  of  1,500. 

We  are  now  at  the  base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains,  and  have 
a  heavy  up  grade,  48  miles  to  the  summit. 

Our  "course  leads  along  up  the  canon  of  the  Truckee  River 
which  has  its  source  in  Lake  Tahoe,  where  immense  quantities  of 
logs  are  cut,  and  floated  through  the  lake,  and  down  the  stream,  to 
mills  along  its  course. 

The  Truckee  canon  is  deep  and  narrow,  having  no  valley, 
adown  which  the  waters  of  the  river  rush  and  foam,  with  terrific 
force.  Unnumbered  saw-mills  are  located  along  its  banks,  the 
mountains  on  both  sides  are  well  timbered,  and  sloping  back  with 
numerous  gorges  and  ravines,  affording  ample  facility  for  flumes, 
through  which  lumber  is  floated  down  from  the  mills  far  back  on  the 
mountains  above.  These  flumes  are  common  in  all  the  lumber  sec 
tions,  throughout  the  mountain  regions.  Some  of  them  are  more 
than  20  miles  in  length.  The  water  is  taken  in  from  some  small 
stream  near  the  summit,  the  lumber  placed  in  the  troughs  and 
gently  borne  down  to  the  stations  below.  All  logs  within  short 
distances  of  the  river  are  tumbled  down  its  banks,  or  run  down 
on  slides,  and  plunged  into  the  river,  the  great  thoroughfare  for 
logs  along  its  banks,  as  well  as  all  those  from  Lake  Tahoe. 

Continuing  up  this  water  course  26  miles  we  crossed  the  State 
Line  into  California,  and  ten  miles  farther  brought  us  to  Truckee 
City.  Along  through  all  this  distance  is  one  continuous  scene  of 
lumbering.  Lumber,  ties,  logs  and  wood,  in  places  seem  almost 
to  choke  up  the  way.  This  city  has  2,000  inhabitants  all  of  whom 
are  connected  with  the  lumber  trade.  It  is  twelve  miles  north  of 
Lake  Tahoe,  that  great  summer  resort,  and  two  miles  from 
Donner  Lake,  where  Mr.  Donner  and  his  wife  perished  from 
starvation  in  the  winter  of  1846. 

We  will  now  take  leave  of  Truckee  City  and  start  for  the 
summit  of  the  Sierras,  14  miies  distant,  having  two  strong 
locomotives  attached  to  draw  us  up  the  steep  grades. 

Pine  forests,  jagged  peaks,  deep  gorges,  rocky  cliffs,  and  nature's 
wildest  scenery  greets  us  on  every  hand. 


32 

We  wound  around  Donner  Lake  Valley  and  entered  the  snow 
sheds,  which  with  the  numerous  long  tunnels  forms  an  unbroken 
line  of  45  miles.  As  we  toiled  along  up,  by  looking  through  the 
peek-holes  in  the  sheds,  we  saw  vistas  of  Donner  Lake  lying 
hundreds  of  feet  below,  with  its  mirrored  surface  covered  with  ice 
closely  nestling  beneath  the  surrounding  pine  clad  peaks,  and 
sadly  thought  of  Donner's  fate,  perishing  under  20  feet  snow. 

Up,  up,  higher  and  more  high  we  toiled  until  arriving  at  the 
summit  where  the  side  track  is  also  covered  by  the  snow  sheds. 

This  is  the  highest  point  of  the  Central  Pacific  Railrcadv 
altitude  7,017  feet.  Distance  from  Utica  by  our  route  3,359 
miles.  Distance  from  San  Francisco  245  miles. 

The  snow  sheds  are  built  of  strong  timber  with  one  roof  so  that 
avalanches  will  slide  directly  over  them. 

Soda  Springs  on  the  summit  is  said  to  be  equal  to  any 
manufactured  soda  water. 

Now,  descending  «a  rapid  grade,  winding,  turning  and  looping 
around  spurs  of  the  mountains,  we  at  length  reached  Blue 
Canon  where  a  number  of  saw  mills  are  located,  from  which 
large  quantities  of  lumber  are  shipped. 

The  scenery  has  been  weird,  ever  changing  and  beautiful  over 
the  mountains,  but  the  culminating  point  is  yet  to  come. 

Passing  Shady  Run  we  saw  on  our  left  one  of  the  grandest 
scenes  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains.  The  Great  American 
Canon  two  miles  long,  with  smooth  perpendicular  granite  walls 
rising  2,000  feet  directly  out  of  the  water.  The  walls  are  com 
pressed  so  near  together  that  the  water  washes  each  side,  and  no 
person  has  ever  yet  been  able  to  pass  through  the  gorge,  even 
on  foot. 

While  steadfastly  gazing,  the  train  bears  to  the  right,  and  is 
lost  to  sight.  We  are  now  approaching  the  Blue  Lode  placier 
mining  district,  which  extends  through  Nevada  and  Sierra 
counties,  and  is  from  100  to  500  feet  below  the  surface,  and 
from  one  to  five  miles  wide.  It  is  supposed  to  be  the  bed  of 
some  ancient  river,  which  is  demonstrated  by  finding  petrified 
trees  lying  at  the  bottom,  some  of  them  six  feet  through  and  of 
the  same  variety  as  now  grow  on  the  surface.  A  field  for 
thought,  yet  none  can  tell  the  ages  past. 

Hydraulic  mining  is  carried  on  by  bringing  streams  down  the 
mountains  in  flumes  and  ditches  for  many  miles,  then  attaching  a 
hose  to  the  flume  with  an  iron  nozzle  through  which  the  water 
rushes,  tearing  down  the  banks,  gravel  and  stone,  wash  down 
through  a  tail  race  into  a  long  flume  where  the  riffles  for  collecting 
gold  are  placed.  The  mountain  sides  are  lined  with  these  water 
courses,  and  an  army  of  men  are  at  work,  who  live  in  little  cozy 
cabins,  but  no  children  are  seen  about  their  doors.  Going  down 
the  mountain  rapidly  amid  mining  claims,  by  the  side  of  long 
ditches  through  the  deep  gravel  cuts,  until  all  at  onjce  the  north 
fork  of  the  American  River  broke  on  our  sight,  dashing  and  foam 
ing  in  a  narrrow  gorge  1,500  feet  below  us.  As  wre  rounded  the 
point  of  a  mountain  on  a  narrow  rim  cut  along  its  side  and  looked 


33 

down  upon  the  peaks  below,  with  a  deep  gorge  winding  its  way 
between,  we  were  at  once  struck  with  wonder  and  astonishment  at 
the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  the  scene,  while  every  moment 
brought  some  new  object  to  our  vision.  The  canon  breaks  on  our 
sight  again,  and  this  time  almost  directly  under  us,  2,500  feet 
below.  Slowly  we  moved  along,  looking  down  upon  the  stream 
that  appeared  like  a  rivulet  in  the  chasm  below. 

This  is  Cape  Horn,  one  of  the  grandest  scenes  on  the  globe. 
Timid  ladies  took  one  look  and  nerveless  fell  back  to  their  seats 
again.  Their  vision  could  not  linger  on  this  awe  inspiring  grandeur, 
which  tongue  can  not  tell,  or  pen  portray. 

In  the  distance  far  below  we  saw  a  dark  strip  like  a  plank  span 
ning  the  stream.  We  learned  it  was  the  turnpike  bridge  leading  to 
Iowa  Hill.  Turning  around  and  looking  up  the  mountain  from 
whence  we  came,  we  saw  merely  a  rim  on  its  steep  side  where  the 
Indian  could  not  make  a  foot  trail ;  but  our  brave  men  were  fast 
ened  by  ropes  until  they  could  get  a  footing.  We  have  now 
passed  around  that  dizzy  height  in  safety,  and  viewed  irom  3,000 
feet  below,  the  cars  appear  to  be  rolling  through  the  clouds. 
Below  us  still  we  see  the  road  bed  running  in  opposite  directions, 
but  at  length  reaching  it,  where  we  crossed  Rice's  Ravine,  on  a 
trestle  bridge,  113  feet  high  and  878  long,  under  which  the  Colf'ax 
and  Nevada  road  passes.  This  is  a  three-foot  narrow  gauge,  and 
is  22 1  miles  long.  The  scenery  along  its  line  is  said  to  be  pass 
ingly  sublime. 

Leaving  Colfax,  we  leave  the  towering,  rugged  peaks  behind, 
and  follow  down  the  foot  hills,  10  miles  to  Clipper  Gap,  then 
onward  still,  passing  through  many  an  old  washed  placer  mine, 
where  not  long  ago  could  be  seen  thousands  of  men  digging  and 
washing  from  early  dawn  until  darkness  shrouded  the  west,  seek 
ing  for  the  "root*of  all  evil."  It  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  all  dug 
over,  now  lies  desolate. 

Along  the  foot  hill  of  the  range,  gardens,  orchards  and  vine 
yards  abound,  and  all  betoken  happiness  and  quiet. 

A  few  miles  more  brought  us  to  Roseville  Junction,  of  the  Ore 
gon  division.  We  have  now  struck  the  great  Sacramento  Valley 
where  grain,  orchards,  and  vineyards  abound,  and  return  a  hundred 
fold.  Passed  one  vineyard  of  110  acres  in  which  the  grapes  were 
laid  on  boards  to  dry  for  raisins.  Near  by  was  an  orchard  of  400 
acres,  all  set  with  Bartlett  pears.  Sacramento  is  situated  on  the 
east  bank  of  the  Sacramento  River  near  its  confluence  with  the 
American.  It  is  a  thriving  and  flourishing  city.  Population, 
23,000.  It  contains  the  State  Capitol  and  county  buildings. 

The  Johnson  and  Brandy-Wine  Company  work  400  tons  of 
grapes  annually.  The  beet  sugar  factory  has  a  capacity  of  100 
tons  daily,  employing  500  hands.  The  woolen  mills  work  1,000 
pounds  daily.  All  the  cars  used  on  the  road  are  built  here,  and 
the  company  has  a  hospital  erected  where  the  sick  and  unfortunate 
are  cared  for.  The  river  bed  has  been  filled  up  from  12  to  18  feet, 
by  debris  washed  down  from  the  mines  above,  which  render  levees 
necessary. 


34 

Now,  right  here,  let  me  stop  on  my  journey,  and  bestow  my 
sympathy  on  General  Sutter,  the  pioneer  of  California,  who  first 
unearthed  the  shining  dust,  that  set  the  world  ablaze. 

We  will  go  up  the  Sacramento  River  25  miles  to  the  confluence 
of  the  Feather  River,  then  up  that  stream  20  miles  to  the  Hock 
Farm,  the  home  of  the  venerable  pioneer  of  California,  General 
Sutter.  The  old  farmhouse  and  iron  fort  remain.  Enormous  fig- 
trees,  orchards  and  vineyards  are  still  flourishing,  planted  by  the 
General  more  than  50  years  ago.  General  Sutter  received  his 
grant  from  the  Russian  Government,  which  conveyed  to  him  the 
site  of  Sacramento  City,  and  land  for  30  or  40  miles  around  it;  of 
which  the  Hock  Farm  is  a  part.  Swindlers  deprived  him  of  his 
property,  and  he  died  penniless,  a  pensioner  on  the  State. 

The  first  gold  was  discovered  January  19th,  1848,  by  J.  W. 
Marshall,  in  General  Sutter's  mill-race. 

A  description  of  the  products,  wealth  and  enterprise  from  Sac 
ramento  to  San  Francisco  would  fill  a  volume.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
this,  in  connection  with  many  other  parts  of  California,  is  the  gar 
den  spot  of  the  earth.  I  will  only  mention  a  few  of  its  products, 
and  the  large  scale  on  which  they  are  raised. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  Sacramento  River  and  extending  north 
a  hundred  miles,  is  one  continuous  line  of  wheat  fields.  Across 
the  river  on  the  east  side  Mr.  Briggs  has  a  small  farm  of  wheat 
land  containing  30,000  acres,  producing  from  30  to  50  bushels  to 
the  acre. 

Now,  coming  directly  to  the  line  of  our  road,  we  will  notice  the 
fruit  along  its  course.  Alameda  County  lying  between  San  Fran 
cisco  Bay  and  San  Joaquin  River,  has  a  deep,  rich,  alluvial  soil, 
which  is  adapted  to  the  growth  of  all  kinds  of  fruit,  and  vegetables, 
The  size,  weight  and  quality  are  truly  marvelous,  and  an  account 
of  it,  to  us,  seems  almost  fabulous.  One  man,  a  Mr.  Meek,  has  a 
2,200  acre  farm  here.  On  300  of  which  are  250,000  currant  bushes, 
1,200  almond  trees,  4,200  cherry  trees,  8,000  prunfs  and  plum 
trees,  1,500  pear  trees,  2,500  apple  trees,  1,800  peach  trees,  2,000 
apricot  trees  and  60  acres  in  blackberries,  besides  large  orange 
groves. 

Another  man  raised  in  1877,  200  tons  of  pumpkins,  300  tons  of 
beets  and  200  tons  of  carrots. 

Currants  grow  as  big  as  filberts  and  cherries  measure  3  inches 
in  circumference.  All  the  tree  fruits  are  astonishingly  large,  and 
the  mammoth  size  and  weight  of  vegetables  we  scarcely  dare  tell. 
Carrots  grow  three  feet  long  and  weigh  35  pounds,  cabbage  weigh 
75  pounds,  onions  5  pounds,  watermelons  85  pounds,  pears  3J 
pounds,  strawberries  two  ounces  and  beets  200  pounds.  These 
beat  all  other  beets  on  earth. 

From  Sacramento  our  course  led  directly  south  to  Stockton,  on 
the  San  Joaquin  River  at  the  head  of  navigation.  The  town  has  a 
great  trade  in  grain,  and  a  population  of  13,000.  The  city  is  sup 
plied  with  water  from  an  artesian  well,  1,002  feet  deep,  which 
discharges  360,000  gallons  of  water  daily.  The  water  rises  10  feet 
above  the  surface.  We  still  continued  south  to  Lathrop,  where 


35 

we  struck  the  Visalia  division,  then  turned  in  a  westerly  course  to 
Oakland.  The  city  of  Oakland  is  the  second  in  size  on  the  Pacific 
coast,  having  a  population  of  35,000,  and  has  arisen  as  by  magic  in 
the  last  few  years.  It  derives  its  name  from  the  live  oaks  in  its 
vicinity.  Orchards,  parks  and  vineyards  are  on  every  hand,  and 
it  nestles  in  perpetual  verdure,  and  is  the  residence  of  the  wealthy 
of  San  Francisco. 

The  State  Asylum  for  the  deaf,  blind  and  dumb  is  a  fine  three 
story,  stone  building,  located  here,  surrounded  by  a  park  with  beds 
of  flowers  and  bowers  of  grapes,  around  and  among  which  the 
inmates  were  walking,  and  apparently  enjoying  life  cheerily. 

Manufactures  have  received  much  attention,  $4,350,000  are 
invested  in  that  enterprise. 

Moving  slowly  through  the  town,  the  train  ran  on  to  a  long  pier, 
extending  half  way  across  San  Francisco  Bay,  and  there  we  were 
transferred  to  the  ferry-boat,  from  the  upper  deck  of  which  two 
mighty  cities  could  be  seen.  Oakland  behind  us,  San  Francisco 
before  us,  containing  240,000  inhabitants  from  every  land  and 
clime  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  When  gold  was  first  discovered  in 
1848,  there  were  not  500  white  people  in  as  many  hundred  miles, 
and  ships  seldom  touched  its  shores.  It  now  holds  commerce 
with  all  the  world.  Nearly  all  the  railroads  have  been  built  in  the 
same  time,  and  here  they  all  end. 

From  the  creation  of  the  world,  no  nation  ever  before  made  such 
progress.  We  go  with  electricity,  and  time  and  space  are  annihil- 
atecl.  thirty  years  more,  who  can  tell  ? 

Collecting  my  thoughts,  I  looked  to  the  right  and  saw  Goat 
Island  a  mass  of  naked  rock,  340  feet  high,  containing  350  acres. 
Then  turning  around  I  notice  we  were  at  the  city  of  San  Francisco. 
I  took  an  omnibus,  went  up  into  the  city  and  took  rooms  at  the 
Prescott  House.  The  word  up  when  applied  to  many  of  the 
streets  of  this  city  is  very  appropriate.  The  grades  of  some  of  the 
street-walks  are  so  rapid  that  they  are  ascended  all  the  way  by 
flights  of  wooden  steps.  The  first  object  that  attracted  my  atten 
tion  in  the  city,  was  somebeautilul  little  palace  street  cars,  passing 
up  and  down  steep  grades  without  horse  or  steam  or  any  visible 
propelling  power.  Under  the  paving  is  an  endless  cable  in  motion, 
and  over  that  is  a  cleft  in  the  road-bed,  two  inches  wide,  and 
extending  the  entire  length  of  the  line.  A  grappling  iron  extends 
down  through  the  car  and  also  through  the  cleft  below,  where  it 
grasps  the  cable,  and  its  gentle  motion  moves  the  car  forward. 


Wednesday,  October  3d,  I  went  out  to  view  the  city.  It  is 
very  substantially  built.  Mostly  of  iron,  brick  and  stone. 

The  first  house  was  built  in  1835,  then  called  Yuba  Buna. 
Changed  to  San  Francisco,  in  1847.  There  are  churches  of  all 
kinds,  including  several  "Joss  Houses,"  and  it  is  also  well  supplied 
with  schools  and  65  periodicals  are  published  there. 

The  market  is  filled  with  the  choicest  fruits  in  the  world,  and 
abundance  of  everything  else.  There  are  three  Chinese  theaters, 


36 

where  their  vain  tricks  are  performed  which  are  as  dead  to  us  as 
their  language. 

The  public  buildings  are  numerous,  large  and  beautiful ;  a 
description  of  which  would  fill  a  volume.  I  will  describe  but  one. 
The  Palace  Hotel — which  I  visited  many  times — the  largest  in  the 
world,  covers  an  entire  square.  Market,  New  Montgomery 
Jessie  and  Annie  streets  surround  it.  It  is  344  feet  by  265,  and 
seven  stones  high,  (115  feet.)  The  foundations  are  12  feet  thick. 
The  walls  outside  and  in,  are  banded  together  with  iron,  and  on  the 
upper  story  the  bands  are  bat  two  feet  apart.  The  roof  is  tin  and 
glass,  and  cornice  zinc  and  iron.  It  has  three  courts,  one  144  by 
84  feet.  The  w^ater  comes  from  four  artesian  wells,  with  a  capacity 
of  28,000  gallons  per  hour.  The  base  reservoir,  contains  630,000 
gallons,  and  one  on  the  roof  1 '2 8, 000.  It  is  supplied  with  five 
elevators  and  all  the  modern  improvements. 

From  here  I  went  to  China  Town,  which  comprises  three  streets 
occupied  exclusively  by  Heathen  Chinese  shop-keepers.  The  build 
ings  are  the  same  as  in  other  parts  of  the  city — all  else,  how 
different !  It  seemed  like  stepping  at  once  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  globe.  They  all  dress  in  their  native  Chinese  style,  with  blue 
pants,  a  loose  frock  coming  to  the  hips,  sandals  on  their  feet,  with 
a  thick  springy  sole  that  gives  elasticity  to  their  steps  and  causes 
them  to  out  walk  the  other  citizens.  A  round  cap,  tassle  and 
cue  finishes  up  their  rig.  Chinamen  live  on  a  little.  If  I  were 
forced  to  live  as  they  do,  I  should  live  on  less.  I  noticed  in  their 
market,  strings  of  dried  meat,  and  fish  from  the  larger  down  to 
the  least  minnows,  as  dry  as  a  husk.  Also  dried  fowls  and  smoked 
meats  of  different  kinds,  and  some  unmentionable  things.  The 
vegetables  were  many  of  them  foreign  to  me.  Tha  whole  looked 
loathsome.  I  retired  at  the  Prescott  House  for  the  night. 


Thursday,  October  4th,  the  street  cars  carried  me  to  the  flower 
gardens  of  Frank  Pixley,  editor  of  the  Argonaut,  in  the  western 
addition,  occupying  one  entire  square.  Roses  and  thousands  of 
other  flowers  are  growing,  among  which  I  noticed  the  Flora  Pango, 
producing  the  largest  flower  I  ever  saw,  and  of  a  pure  white,  bell- 
shaped,  10  inches  in  length,  and  six  inches  broad  at  the  mouth — 
very  odorous.  Fuchsias  grow  to  be  a  shrub  10  or  12  feet  high, 
and  pinks  abound  all  the  year. 

Leaving  this  lovely  spot  I  climbed  a  high  elevation  and  veiwed 
the  surroundings,  the  bay  and  the  Golden  Gate.  Passing  on  to 
Gerry  street,  I  took  another  cable  five  miles,  then  stage  3^  miles 
to  the  Cliff  House,  standing  on  a  bluff'  200  feet  high,  where  the 
briny  waves  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  lash  the  rock-bound  shore,  dash 
ing  spray  into  the  air. 

The  Cliff  House  is  a  large,  commodious  and  fashionable  resort. 
On  entering  the  same  I  heard  a  noise  from  the  backside  which 
sounded  as  though  all  the  donkeys  in  San  Francisco  were  holding 
carnival  with  a  herd  of  swine,  and  the  dogs  of  Lapland  and  Siberia 
were  hurrying  them  on  into  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Passing  to  the 


37 

veranda  facing  the  briny  deep,  I  saw  before  me  three  small  rocky 
islands,  rising  directly  from  the  water,  and  but  500  yards  away. 
They  are  called  the  Seal  Islands,  and  there  was  the  seal  revelry. 
Their  number  was  legion,  for  they  could  .not  be  counted.  There 
seemed  to  be  much  rivalry  among  them  to  see  which  could  climb 
the  highest.  One  called  General  Grant,  weighing  about  3,000 
pounds  lay  on  top  of  the  rocks  200  feet  above  Yeo-Hoeing,  but 
none  of  the  rest,  in  their  efforts,  could  ascend  to  him.  They  were 
all  over  the  rocks  in  every  direction.  Some  going  up,  others 
plunging  off,  growling,  barking  and  quarrelling.  Leaving  this 
scene  of  life  and  animation,  I  walked  down  the  cliff  to  the  sandy 
beach  beyond,  where,  in  stricken  awe,  I  viewed  Old  Pacific' & 
surges  roll,  and  felt  a  Maker's  power,  then  bowed  and  owned  my 
nothingness 

The  Golden  Gate  is  a  channel  of  water  a  mile  wide  that  con 
nects  San  Francisco  Bay  with  the  ocean.  Upon  the  bluffs  100 
feet  above  the  water  are  stratas  of  shell  and  bone  two  feet  thick. 
Drift  sand  extends  back  from  the  lower  beach  some  miles,  and  is 
carried  into  ridges  by  the  wind  like  drifts  of  snow,  having  not  a 
vestige  of  vegetation. 

Returning;  to  the  city  I  changed  my  lodgings  to  the  International 
Hotel, 


turning  to  the  city  I  changed  my  lodgings  to  the  Inten 
1,  which  is  advertised  to  be  fire  and  earthquake  proof. 


Friday,  October  5th,  I  bought  a  return  ticket,  unlimited,  paid 
$122.10.  Spent  the  day  in  the  city  collecting  information  respect 
ing  excursions,  and  put  up  at  the  International  Hotel. 


Saturday,  October  6th,  I  started  for  Mountain  View  Cemetery 
and  Piedmont  White  Sulphur  Springs.  Crossing  the  ferry  to 
Oakland,  I  first  viewed  a  beautiful  flower  garden,  before  which  in 
the  street  stands  the  eucalyptus,  or  blue  gum  trees,  which  are 
natives  of  Australia,  where  they  attain  a  height  of  300  feet,  and 
are  from  12  to  15  feet  in  diameter.  They  flourish  without  irriga 
tion,  with  astonishing  rapidity,  on  all  kinds  of  California  soil. 
Millions  of  them  are  being  set  lor  their  shade,  timber  and  medical 
qualities,  which  are  very  great  in  preventing  malarial  diseases. 
Those  spoken  of  have  been  planted  14  years,  are  80  feet  high,  and 
82  inches  around  the  base.  It  is  an  evergreen  tree,  with  leaves 
10  inches  long. 

Now  starting  on  again,  a  street  car  took  me  five  miles  to 
Mountain  View,  where  following  up  a  drive  one-fourth  of  a  mile  to 
the  place  of  interment,  on  both  sides  of  which,  and  continuing  the 
entire  length,  are  rose  bushes  and  geraniums  thickly  set  and  laden 
with  flowers.  Rising  from  among  these,  and  at  certain  intervals 
throughout  the  line,  the  tall  pampa  grass  waves  its  chaste  head 
over  the  emblems  of  purity  that  hang  clustered  below.  A 
fountain  with  jets  of  water  rising  high  in  the  air,  is  located  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  drive.  The  basin  swarming  with  gold  fish,  and 
surrounded  by  fuchsias,  bowing  their  modest  heads,  as  if  to  drink 


38 

in  the  water  below.  For  beauty  of  walks  and  drives,  it  rivals 
Greenwood.  Spreading  palms  are  set  about  the  grounds,  and  on 
the  hill  sides  are  thick  groves  of  eucalyptus  trees.  Colton's  monu 
ment,  the  most  noted,  is  in  the  form  of  a  cottage,  built  of  marble, 
14  by  18  feet,  pillars  in  front,  with  capitals.  The  only  inscription 
"Our  Beloved  Colton." 

From  these  grounds  I  walked  towards  the  Piedemont  White 
Sulphur  Springs.  On  my  way  thither  I  passed  an  orchard  bowed 
down  writh  choicest  iruit.  The  kind  lady  of  the  house,  with  a  smile, 

f  ranted  me  the  freedom  of  the  grounds,  and  all  the  products  I 
esired.     Such  rich  and  luscious  fruit  I  had  not  tasted  since  my 
childhood  days. 

Reaching  the  Spring  House,  fifteen  cents  was  demanded,  entrance 
fee,  the  ticket  good  also  for  that  amount  in  the  dining  room.  The 
springs  were  mere  nothing.  The  bill  of  fare  in  the  dining  room 
ran  from  a  dollar  down,  but  did  not  reach  the  ticket.  I  paid  the 
balance,  smiling  at  the  shrewdness  of  the  arrangement,  as  a  second 
call  would  scarcely  be  made.  A  grove  of  a  hundred  acres  of 
eucalyptus  trees  standing  back  on  the  mountain  wTas  all  the 
redeeming  qualities  I  could  see.  I  returned  to  the  National  Hotel 
San  Francisco. 


Sunday,  October  7th. — Weary  of  city  confusion,  I  thought  to 
spend  a  portion  of  the  day  in  reflection  among  the  big  red  woods 
in  the  wilderness,  and  on  the  ocean  beach  at  Santa  Cruz.  Through 
Alameda  the  eucalyptus  trees  are  planted  by  the  side  of  the  track. 
The  company  have  near  a  million  of  them  in  nursery  stock,  and 
intend  to  set  them  the  entire  length  of  their  lines. 

Passing  the  noted  Alameda  baths,  the  road  led  out  upon  the  salt 
marsh,  where  were  seen  stacks  of  salt,  resembling  the  white  tents  of 
a  soldiers'  camp.  No  sheds  being  necessary  to  cover  it,  as  no  rain 
falls  from  April  to  November.  Wild  fowls  on  these  marshes  are 
legion. 

At  Alvarado  are  the  beet  sugar  mills,  consuming  25  tons  of  coal 
a  day,  manufacturing  immense  quantities  of  sugar.  From  here  to 
San  Jose,  25  miles,  is  a  level  country,  the  Santa  Clara  Valley,  the 
garden  of  California,  a  second  Eden. 

Sacks  filled  with  potatoes  and  onions,  setting  upright,  stretched 
in  long  rows  across  the  fields,  and  the  varieties  of  fruit  are  various. 
Such  as  strawberries,  tomatoes,  almonds,  filberts,  pecans,  walnuts, 
peppers,  persimmons,  prunes,  pomegranates,  oranges,  lemons,  figs, 
apricots,  and  above  all  grapes. 

San  Jose  city  has  a  population  of  18,000,  being  the  fourth  in  the 
State.  It  was  settled  by  Spanish  missionaries  in  1777.  The 
Alameda  grove  was  planted  in  1799 — a  pretty  grove  and  a  hand 
some  city.  We  had  an  up-grade  to  Los  Gatos,  the  natural  home  of 
the  grape.  From  here  we  began  our  ascent  of  the  Santa  Cruz 
Mountains,  following  Los  Gatos  Creek  and  passing  through  eight 
tunnels  and  under  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  making  our^egress 
on  the  other  side  in  the  red  wood  forest,  where  large  quantities  of 


39 

lumber  are  floated  down  in  flumes  from  mills  far  back  in  the 
mountains.  The  scenery  through  this  rugged  pass  is  awfully 
sublime,  assuming  all  manner  of  shapes  and  forms  that  the  imagi 
nation  can  conceive.  Descending,  we  followed  Bean  Creek  and 
the  Zayante  Creek  through  the  red  wood  forest  to  Falton,  where 
they  join  the  San  Lorenzo  River  that  passes  through  the  Big  Tree 
Grove,  then  on  to  Santa  Cruz — the  City  of  the  Holy  Cross. 
Arriving  here  the  ocean  forbid  our  farther  progress. 

I  walked  upon  the  beach  where  God  had  marked  the  sea  its 
bounds,  and  looked  away  upon  the  deep  to  see  its  troubled  waters 
roll.  Turning  around  and  viewing  the  town,  I  saw  it  scattered 
over  hill  and  ^clale,  completely  embowered  in  fruit  trees,  vines  and 
flowers.  Surrounded  on  three  sides  by  mountains  and  forest,  with 
the  broad  ocean  in  front.  I  saw  on  the  hill-side  a  low  cottage  just 
peeping  out  above  the  many  shrubs,  vines  and  flowers,  that 
surrounded  it.  Finding  my  way  there,  a  lady  presented  me  a 
fine  bouqet.  I  noticed  among  the  rest  a  cactus  two  feet  in  circum 
ference,  and  ten  feet  high,  laden  with  fruit  said  to  be  very  good, 
but  should  not  be  eaten  in  the  dark.  I  walked  through  orchards 
and  gardens  where  the  branches  bowed  down  with  fruit,  and  was 
made  welcome  to  all  I  desired.  Baldwins  and  greenings  I  noticed 
were  cultivated  and  rather  put  the  blush  on  ours. 

At  2  P.  M.  I  returned  to  the  Big  Tree  Grove,  five  miles  from 
Santa  Cruz,  entirely  in  the  wilderness. 

A  long,  temporary  dining  hall,  a  bar  located  outside,  a  summer 
house  built  on  the  stump  of  a  fallen  tree  comprises  the  station. 
These  trees  belong  to  the  pine  family,  and  when  growing  on  the 
rocky  cliff  and  gulches  of  the  mountains,  measure  from  a  foot  and 
a  half  to  four  ieet  in  diameter,  and  shoot  up  like  an  arrow  from 
100  to  150  feet  high.  But  when  it  finds  a  deep  and  more  genial 
soil,  it  never  stops  growing  until  some  convulsion  of  nature  sweeps 
it  off,  and  when  once  gone  it  never  returns ;  as  the  fossil  remains 
indicate  in  Alaska  and  Northern  Europe,  and  the  petrified  forest  on 
the  mountain  near  Calistogo,  hereinafter  spoken  of.  Those  groves 
on  the  Sierra  Nevada  and  Coast  Range  Mountains,  are  all  that  are  left 
on  the  face  of  the  globe,  and  these  are  fast  disappearing.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  useful  woods  California  has  for  building  purposes,  ties 
and  telegraph  poles,  and  will  not  rot  for  thousands  of  years  if  kept 
dry.  It  is  brought  in  long  flumes  from  30  or  40  miles  back  on  the 
mountains  to  the  thoroughfares  and  then  conveyed  to  the  different 
towns  and  cities. 

Now,  returning  more  directly  to  our  subject,  the  Big  Tree  Grove 
is  located  on  the  Valley  of  the  San  Lorenzo  River,  five  miles  from 
Santa  Cruz.  The  soil,  as  shown  by  the  railroad  cutting,  is  from  12 
to  16  feet  deep,  and  lower  in  the  valley,  it  is  probably  20  or  30 
and  possibly  more. 

The  trunk  has  a  round  symmetrical  from  throughout  its  entire 
length,  with  a  few  short  limbs.  The  leaves  resemble  those  of  a 
cedar  more  than  that  of  a  pine.  They  are  about  half  an  inch  in 
length,  and  resemble  a  braided  silk  cord.  The  roots  go  directly 
down  into  the  earth,  after  forming  a  swell  at  the  bottom  of  the 


40 

tree  for  a  brace.  In  deep  reflection  I  wandered  alone  among 
about  forty  acres  of  these  giants  of  the  forest,  and  bowed  myself 
by  the  river  side  where  the  waters  gently  flowed,  and  felt  a  deep 
sense  of  the  mighty  power  of  a  wonder-working  God.  It  is 
surprising  to  notice  how  closely  together  these  trees  grow,  often 
two,  three  or  four,  connected  at  the  ground  will  stretch  them 
selves  along  up  side  by  side,  apparently  striving  to  see  which 
should  first  reach  the  clouds. 

To  describe  all  these  trees  separately  would  require  much  space. 
I  will  only  mention  a  few  of  the  most  noted. 

Fremont's  Tree,  so  called  because  General  Fremont  and  party 
camped  in  it  for  six  weeks  whilst  exploring  the  country.  It  is 
300  feet  high,  and  contains  a  hollow  space  at  the  root  16  feet  in 
diameter.  The  inside  was  burnt  out  forming  the  hollow,  and  the 
walls  are  rather  sombre.  It  was  once  occupied  by  a  trapper,  who 
had  children  born  in  it.  A  hole  was  cut  through  the  backside  for 
a  stove  pipe  to  pass  out,  and  a  natural  arched  opening  about  eight 
feet  high  in  front,  which  served  as  a  doorway  and  window. 

The  ceiling  above  is  lost  in  darkness.  The  tree  yet  lives  and 
flourishes,  and  doubtless  will  for  ages  yet  to  come.  I  walked 
down  under  the  shadow  of  these  monsters,  to  near  the  river,  to 
view  the  remains  of  an  old  tannery,  constructed  by  the  aforesaid 
trapper,  being  the  first  ever  used  by  white  men  in'California.  It 
consisted  of  a  large  red  wood  being  felled,  and  three  sections  being 
hollowed  out  in  trough  form  for  vats,  under  the  shelter  of  the 
surrounding  forest. 

Jumbo  standing  near  General  Fremont  is  of  the  same  size  and 
height.  Fillmore  is  61  feet  in  circumference.  The  three  sisters 
are  very  large,  and  starting  from  the  same  base  of  roots,  rise  200 
feet,  then  one  gracefully  bows  a  little  and  clasps  the  other  in  its 
branches. 

The  Giant  stands  isolated  and  defiant,  and  rose  to  the  height  of 
372  feet;  but  in  its  stubbornness  to  overawe  its  companions,  the 
Almighty  sent  his  blast  and  broke  off  70  feet  of  its  overshadowing 
loftiness.  It  now  stands  a  little  over  300  feet,  holding  equlibrium 
with  its  brethren.  It  is  74  8-12  feet  in  circumference. 

At  6  P.  M.,  I  left  this  awe-inspiring  scene  and  returned  to  San 
Francisco,  and  lodged  at  the  International  Hotel. 


Monday,  October  8th. — I  started  for  Calistogo,  68  miles  distant, 
and  the  Petrified  Forest,  6  miles  beyond.  Passing  Oakland  on  the 
Napa  Branch,  we  proceeded  up  the  valley.  If  there  is  such  a  thing, 
literally,  as  rivers  of  wine,  they  flow  through  this  valley.  Truly 
it  is  a  land  of  corn  and  wine.  From  Oakland  the  country  is  very 
rich  and  level,  extending  to  the  foot  hills  of  the  barren  mountains 
on  the  east. 

Long  rows  of  Gum  trees  ornament  the  sides  of  the  road,  and 
private  grounds  along  which  we  passed,  vegetable  gradens  with 
their  rich  products,  occupy  these  bottom  lands.  Turning  my 
attention  to  San  Pablo  Bay,  on  the  left,  I  noticed  the  marsh 


41 

was  literally  covered  with  gulls.  The  garden  gradually  give  way 
to  wheat  fields,  and  sacks  of  grain  were  piled  up  by  thousand, 
while  the  straw  was  being  pressed  into  bales  for  shipment.  Not 
a  spire  of  grass  or  a  pound  of  hay  could  be  seen. 

Large  herds  of  cattle  were  noticed  in  the  Exchange  Yards. 
Mile  after  mile  the  stubble  fields  extend  from  which  the 
ripened  grain  was  cut,  and  nothing  now  of  green  is  seen  except 
the  willows  that  wend  their  way  along  the  thirsty  channel  of  a 
dried  up  stream.  Wheat  at  length  gives  place  to  a  little  corn, 
and  where  irrigation  is  available,  the  lawns  and  yards  represent  a 
freshness  that  bespeaks  the  beauty  of  Eden's  first  bloom.  Napa 
City,  on  Napa  River,  is  a  smart  town  of  5,000  inhabitants,  at  the 
head  of  tide  water,  connected  with  San  Pablo  Bay. 

Here  we  took  a  steamer  and  crossed  to  the  other  side,  and  struck 
the  Napa  Valley  which  is  about  40  miles  long  and  four  miles  wide. 
It  is  completely  hedged  in  by  various  spurs  of  the  coast  range  of 
mountains,  some  of  which  produce  a  few  shrubs  and  trees,  others 
are  utterly  naked.  The  valley  has  a  dark,  deep,  rich  soil,  and  for 
the  culture  of  grapes  probably  is  not  excelled  in  the  world,  pro 
ducing  annually  nearly  half  a  million  gallons  of  wine  and  brandy. 

The  grape  plants  in  the  vinyard  are  set  about  eight  feet  apart. 
The  first  and  second  years  they  plant  a  row  of  corn  between  each 
row  of  grapes,  one  to  two  stalks  in  a  hill,  having  from  two  to 
three  ears  each.  In  the  fall  the  grape  vines  are  cut  back  to  about 
2  1-2  feet  of  the  ground  and  placed  in  an  upright  position.  The 
next  fall  they  are  cut  back  again  within  six  or  eight  inches  of  the 
first  cutting,  forming  a  stiff  stool  or  bench. 

They  are  treated  in  the  same  way  ever  after,  and  no  treillage  is 
seen  in  a  vineyard.  They  flourish  without  irrigation  on  account 
of  their  depth' of  root. 

This  valley  from  Napa  City,  to  its  terminus  at  Calistogo,  60 
miles,  may  be  said  to  be  one  continuous  line  of  orchards,  gardens, 
vineyards  and  wine  cellars,  all  of  the  richest  and  most  beautiful 
character. 

The  road  is  cut  directly  through  the  vineyards,  and  the  vines 
stand  close  beside  the  track  on  either  side,  loaded  down  with  rich 
clusters  of  delicious  grapes,  that  tempt  the  palate  of  the  passers  by. 

I  will  not  particularize  all  the  occupants  of  these  grounds,  yet 
I  will  mention  a  few.  Oak  Knoll,  five  miles  from  Napa,  is  the 
country  residence  of  Mr.  Woodward,  of  Woodward  Gardens,  S.  F., 
the  farm  contains  1,000  acres,  120  of  which  are  devoted  to  fruit. 

Close  by  is  a  blackberry  ranche  of  12  acres,  this  fruit  is  also 
much  cultivated.  At  Youths  "Ville,  3  1-2  miles  farther  on,  is  a 
large  brick  wine  cellar,  surrounded  by  large  vineyards,  and  a 
little  beyond  comes  Mason's  vineyard  of  a  100  acres  of  raisin 
grapes,  dried  and  packed  there.  Three  miles  farther  we  pass  a 
quicksilver  mine  on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and  a  large  wine 
cellar  on  the  right.  Two  miles  farther,  at  Bello,  is  another  big 
wine  cellar,  surrounded  by  vineyards  also.  On  again  we  passed 
St.  Helena,  which  I  will  notice  on  my  return.  Near  by  is  Kings 
great  vineyard  and  Orange  grove.  Leaving  St.  Helena  behind, 


42 

we  soon  reached  a  farm  of  500  acres,  115  of  which  are  in  a 
vineyard,  and  another  large  wine  cellar  close  by  the  road. 

At  Borro,  two  miles  farther,  the  valley  narrows  up  to  two 
miles,  and  the  vineyards  extend  back  on  the  hill  sides. 

Napa  Creek,  which  we  have  followed  all  the  way,  now  dwindles 
down  and  disappears.  Three  miles  farther  we  arrived  at  Calistogo, 
the  end  of  the  road,  and  end  of  the  valley,  being  surrounded  on 
three  sides  by  mountains,  and  nestling  under  their  shadow. 
This  is  a  quiet  little  town  of  500  inhabitants,  also  a  noted  water 
ing  place.  The  Calistogo  Etna  Boiling  Springs  are  located  here, 
visited  by  invalids  and  tourists,  for  health  and  pleasure. 

Arriving  about  midday  I  hasted  at  once  to  the  springs  which 
were  near  by,  and  on  entering  the  grounds  I  read  a  sign,  "  Cook 
for  Yourselves."  Pleased  with  the"  novel  idea  of  cooking  food  in 
nature's  boiling  cauldron,  I  stood  for  a  few  moments  by  it,  in  awe 
stricken  wonder,  and  watched  its  ebullitions,  which  were  not 
violent,  but  such  as  we  witness  when  a  kettle  of  water  commences 
to  boil,  with  a  dense  steam  arising  from  its  surface. 

Scarcely  believing  my  own  vision,  I  thurst  my  hand  into  it  and 
burnt  my  finger.  It  has  a  temperature  of  212°.  Much  has  been 
done  to  ornament  the  grounds.  About  a  dozen  dwellings  have 
been  erected  for  the  use  of  invalids  and  tourists,  with  large 
palmetto  trees  lining  the  walks  in  front.  In  the  rear  is  a  knob 
containing  about  five  acres,  in  a  circular  form,  rising  directly  from 
the  surrounding  plain  one  hundred  feet,  with  a  fountain 
located  on  the  summit.  Between  the  fountain  and  the  base  are 
many  large  cactus  growing,  and  here  and  there  the  famous  century 
plant  are  located,  covering  a  surface  of  20  or  30  feet  circumference. 
Two  of  the  same  have  blossomed,  the  flower  stems  are  four  feet  in 
circumference  at  the  base,  and  rising  in  the  air  from  16  to  20  feet, 
then  branching  out  with  a  fine  show  of  flowers  at  the  top. 

Wild  oats  are  to  be  seen  here  as  well  as  in  many  other  parts  of 
California.  Mount  St.  Helena,  an  extinct  volcano  now  looms  up 
before  us  3,243  feet  high,  and  is  difficult  of  access.  The  whole 
country  bears  evidence  of  volcanic  action. 

At  1  p.  M.,  I  took  the  stage  for  the  Petrified  Forest  on  the 
western  range  of  mountains.  A  gentlemen  and  three  ladies 
arriving  at  the  same  time. 

A  cottage  and  cabinet  of  fossil  remains  stgod  near  the  road, 
with  a  young  German  in  attendance,  who  was  totally  devoid  of 
every  shadow  of  geological  or  scientifical  information.  He 
received  fifty  cents  each  for  admission,  went  around  and  showed 
us  where  the  trees  lay,  then  left  US'  to  study  nature,  and  reason 
for  ourselves.  The  ground  on  which  the  forest  lies  comprises  40 
acres  of  a  former  plateau,  with  the  mountain  peaks  surrounding  it, 
rising  500  feet  above.  On  the  western  rim  of  this  plateau  the 
land  breaks  off  in  a  more  gradual  descent. 

Cropping  out  around  this  rim  are  seen  these  sleeping  monsters 
of  the  days  of  yore,  being  broken  off  across  this  rim  and  the  op 
portions  either  buried  in  the  debris  below  or  decayed  away.  The 
trunks  extend  back  on  the  plateau  being  buried  in  volcanic  ashes 
and  lava. 


43 

They  are  shown  by  excavation  being  carried  back  60  or  80  feet, 
until  the  ashes  over  them  are  10  to  15  feet  in  thickness.  Were 
they  wholly  unearthed,  doubtless  they  would  represent  trees  of  the 
red  wood  variety  of  400  or  500  feet  in  length.  The  largest  trunk 
yet  brought  to  view  is  33  feet  in  circumference  and  80  feet  to 
where  it  broke  over  the  precipice. 

Counting  the  rings  that  encircle  this  petrified  giant,  I 
estimated  it  to  have  been  3,000  years  old  when  it  was  laid  down 
to  sleep,  and  the  untold  millions  of  ages  that  have  since  passed, 
no  tongue  can  tell.  They  are  broken  up  into  sections  from  three 
to  twenty  feet  in  length,  and  as  direct  across  as  though  cut  with 
a  saw. 

Over  the  plateau  where  these  monarchs  once  nourished  in  the 
"long  ago,"  now  is  nothing  but  a  barren  waste  of  volcanic  ashes 
and  lava,  with  here  and  there  a  scattering  shrub,  and  not  a  tree  of 
red  wood  within  a  hundred  miles. 

No  one,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  has  undertaken  to  explain  this 
wonderful  phenomenon.  And,  if  I  undertake  to  investigate  it 
from  practical  observation,  I  shall  subjugate  myself  to  ridicule  by 
the  scientist,  which  I  must  forego,  and  relate  it  as  nature  presents 
it  to  my  understanding. 

The  germinating  period  of  these  trees  we  can  not  reach,  yet  cir 
cumstances  would  point  it  back  as  far  as  the  biblical  creation.  All 
the  perfect  record  we  have  are  the  rings  that  encircle  them,  which 
is  from  3,000  to  5,000,  indicating  that  number  of  years. 

After  that  period  had  pacifically  passed,  there  was  a  mighty  up 
heaving  of  nature  in  consequence  of  the  internal  fires  that 
struggled  within,  and  the  forest  was  all  thrown  down.  The  trees 
lie  in  parallel  lines,  all  fallen  in  the  same  direction,  plainly  showing 
that  the  earth  being  raised  up  on  one  side,  pitched  them  all  in  an 
opposite  direction. 

Mount  St.  Helena  broke  out  at  the  same  time,  giving  vent  to  the 
internal  burning;  the  ashes  and  lava  falling  back  and  burying  the 
forest  ten  or  twenty  feet  deep  as  it  lies  there  to-day.  It  could  not 
rot,  and  as  ages  passed  away  it  at  length  became  solid  stone. 

Having  finished  my  investigations,  I  retraced  my  journey  to 
Calistogo,  passing  on  the  way  large  beds  of  ashes  and  lava  that 
had  run  down  from  the  extinct  volcano  in  prehistoric  ages,  and 
formed  foot  hills  to  the  mountain. 

Although  the  volcano  of  St.  Helena  has  become  extinct,  yet  that 
ocean  of  melted  lava  within  still  heats  up  the  waters  that  are  sent 
out  in  the  boiling  springs,  which  hold  no  perceptible  mineral  in 
solution. 

On  reaching  the  town  I  purchased  some  eggs  and  other  articles, 
and  immediately  repaired  to  the  Hot  Spring  to  do  my  cooking.  I 
boiled  the  eggs  finely,  and  steeped  the  tea  in  the  best  manner,  then 
sat  down  and  enjoyed  a  repast  directly  from  the  hand  of  nature. 
I  lingered  around  this  boiling  fountain  in  contemplation  till  dark 
ness  closed  the  scene,  adoring  that  "Power  whose  ways  are 
mysterious  and  past  finding  out."  Staid  at  the  Spring  Hotel. 


44 

Tuesday,  October  9th. — I  purchased  a  return  ticket,  paid  $2.70, 
came  as  far  as  St.  Helena  on  the  early  train  and  got  off. 

St.  Helena  is  a  terrestrial  paradise,  with  a  population  of  1,200; 
among  whom  are  many  angelic  beings,  whose  friendship,  freedom 
and  good  will,  manifest  to  strangers,  make  them  at  once  forget 
they  are  strangers  in  a  strange  land,  and  feel  themselves  at  home, 
surrounded  by  the  blessings  of  friendship,  love  and  peace. 

I  passed  through  the  business  portion  of  the  town  to  the  west 
side  and  struck  a  beautiful  street,  with  neatly  finished  residences, 
surrounded  by  vines,  trees,  fruits  and  flowers. "  I  could  not  pass  all 
these  beauties  by.  Entering  a  yard,  the  lady  gave  me  a  hearty 
welcome  and  the  freedom  of  the  grounds,  filled  my  hands  with 
figs,  a  sack  with  grapes,  and  my  heart  with  gratitude.  I  bestowed 
my  blessing  upon  her  and  departed.  A  little  farther  on  1  noticed 
rose  bushes  trained  up  like  shrubs  or  trees,  and  a  large  fig  tree 
with  branches  bowed  to  the  earth  with  ripened  fruit,  while  lovely 
cypress  trees  ornamented  the  foreground. 

Fascinated  by  the  sight,  my  footsteps  led  me  to  the  door  where 
a  lady  and  her  daughter  were  standing  under  the  shadowing 
branches  of  a  fig  tree,  from  which  I  picked  and  ate  a  few  directly 
from  the  branches.  The  lady  then  sent  her  amiable  daughter  on 
the  lawn  to  show  me  the  different  fruits  and  flowers,  and  also  to 
gather  some  almonds,  which  I  retain  for  the  donor's  sake,  whose 
smiling  face  I  never  more  expect  to  see. 

A  mile  or  two  farther  on  I  noticed  a  beautiful  cottage  embowered 
in  trees,  fruits  and  shrubs,  with  vineyards  on  the  surroundings  and 
treillaged  walks  amid  the  lawns.  I  could  not  pass  it  by,  but  entered 
there. 

The  same  free,  open-heartedness  was  at  once  expressed,  and  I 
was  made  welcome  to  all  I  desired  of  everything  my  eyes  could 
rest  upon.  I  wandered  about  the  vineyard  in  wonder  and  astonish 
ment,  at  beholding  the  loads  of  luscious  fruit  those  bushes  bore,  the 
clusters  resting  one  upon  the  other. 

Passing  along  up  £  came  to  Beninger  Bro's  Wine  Cellar.  Mr. 
Beninger  showed  me  the  cellar  which  was  hewn  out  under  the 
mountain,  through  a  soft,  chalky  rock  substance,  supposed  to  be 
composed  of  volcanic  ashes  that  once  fell  from  the  crater  of  St. 
Helena  in  bygone  ages.  The  main  tunnel  of  the  cellar  runs  back 
100  feet,  then  branches  to  the  right  and  left  forming  a  cross.  The 
arch  overhead  is  of  the  same  material  as  the  sides,  all  self-support 
ing.  All  were  filled  with  immense  tierces  of  wine,  containing 
1,000  gallons  each. 

Next  he  showed  the  crusher,  the  pulp  from  which  passed  into  a 
hopper  that  led  through  the  floor  to  the  presses  below.  Claret, 
however,  is  fermented  on  the  skins,  the  other  varieties  are  fermented 
in  the  casks  with  a  sack  of  sand  over  the  bung.  He  said  20  tons 
of  grapes  had  been  raised  per  acre,  on  the  valley,  yet  five  tons 
mio^ht  be  considered  a  fair  yield  on  the  higher  lands.  No  fertili 
zers  are  used.  He  gave  me  a  glass  of  wine,  and  with  friendship  we 
parted.  Enchanted  by  the  fascinating  scenes  I  was  passing  by, 
unconsciously  I  had  retrograded  two  or  three  miles,  and  was  oppo- 


45 

site  of  Krug  Station  in  the  valley  below.  I  turned  directly  to  the 
right  and  made  ray  way  down  through  a  vineyard  that  really 
seemed  to  groan  under  the  weight  of  fruit,  to  the  station,  where  is 
located  another  wine  cellar. 

Mr.  Charles  Krug,  proprietor,  sat  by  a  fountain  overshadowed 
by  willows,  smoking  a  cigar.     He  said  to  me,  go  about  the  flower 
grounds,  fruit  gardens   and  wine  buildings  with  perfect  freedom, 
where   you  choose,    and    when  satisfied,  come  to    me  and  I  will  - 
impart  such  information  as  you  desire. 

I  first  trod  the  isles  of  the  beautiful  flower  grounds,  then  entered 
the  fruit  garden,  where  a  fig-tree  had  broken  under  its  load  of 
fruit.  Quinces  were  of  enormous  size.  The  rich  and  luscious 
peaches,  plums  and  pears  would  have  satisfied  the  most  sanguine 
epicure. 

A  wagon  load  of  grapes  in  boxes,  containing  about  50  pounds 
each,  stood  at  the  elevator,  were  gradually  emptied  on  and  carried 
to  the  crusher  above,  which  separated  the  stems  from  the  pulp. 

Here  I  again  met  the  Hon.  Mr.  Krug.  He  said  to  me,  "come, 
now,  have  a  glass  of  claret;"  after  which  he  wrote  the  following 
statistics  in  my  book  : 

Charles  Krug,  of  Krug's  Station,  has  225  acres  of  vineyard. 
Made  274,000  gallons  of  wine  in  1882. 

The  wine  cellar  is  160  by  130  feet,  and  has  a  capacity  of  500,000 
gallons.  I  have  been  in  the  place  23  years. 

Feeling  a  deep  sense  of  gratitude  and  friendship  for  Mr.  Krug,  I 
shook  hands  and  invoked  the  benediction :  "  May  the  Lord  ever  bless 
the  kind  citizens  of  St.  Helena,  as  they  have  this  day  blessed  me." 

The  railroad  track  being  cut  directly  through  the  vineyards,  I 
took  its  course  back  to  the^station  where  I  got  off  in  the  morning. 
Meeting  on  my  way  Mr.  G.  R.  Warrel  near  his  vineyard,  he  took 
me  out  among  the  truit,  told  me  of  the  adapting  certain  varieties, 
to  certain  purposes.  He  then  said  he  and  Mr.  Ward  had  24  acres 
which  produced  207  tons  last  year.  He  picked  some  of  the  differ 
ent  varieties,  filled  a  small  sack  for  me,  saying  I  was  welcome  to 
all  I  could  carry  away.  As  strangers  we  met,  and  friendship 
glowed — we  parted,  expect  to  meet  no  more. 

At  3.20  P.  M.  I  went  on  board  the  cars  and  started  for  San 
Francisco  with  a  heart  overflowing  with  gratitude  to  the  kind 
people,  and  my  basket  overflowing  with  the  choicest  fruits  of  the 
land.  Arrived  at  International  Hotel,  San  Francisco,  8  P.  M.  As 
I  was  walking  down  Kearney  street  my  attention  was  arrested  by 
a  crowd  gathered  around  a  sign  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  on 
which  I  read,  "Salvation  Army  Meeting.  Jesus,  the  only  Sav 
iour."  I  stopped,  looked  and  listened,  to  see  and  hear  the  medley 
that  was  at  that  moment  transpiring  within  sight  and  hearing. 
Singing  and  exhortation,  band  playing  before  the  theater,  instru 
mental  music  flowing  from  beer  saloons  on  every  hand,  connected 
with  dancing  and  waltzing.  Electric  machines  and  athletics  were 
being  performed.  Target  shooting  in  the  shooting  galleries, 
mercantile  trade  and  traffic  in  the  shops,  auction  rooms  with  shout 
and  laugh,  such  is  the  miscellany  of  this  busy  street. 


46 

Tuesday,  October  9th,  I  retired  at  11  p.  M.  and  soon  fell  asleep^ 
At  1.05  A.  M.  a  terrible  rumbling  and  roaring  was  heard,  the  house 
rocked  to  and  fro  like  a  cradle.  Suddenly  awaking,  I  jumped  to 
the  floor  to  hear  patting  of  feet  all  over  the  house,  and  from  every 
ones'  lips  the  same  words,  "  earthquake."  Such  things  are  com 
mon  here,  and  soon  all  was  still  again. 

Wednesday,  October  10,  1883,  I  bade  adieu  to  San  Francisco, 
and  started  for  home,  over  the  Southern  Pacific  route,  and  its 
connections  through  Los  Angeles,  Yuma,  Deming,  Elpaso,  Santa 
Fe,  Las  Vegas,  Topeka,  Kansas  City,  St.  Louis,  Indianapolis, 
Cleveland  and  Niagara  Falls  to  Utica. 

Our  course  first  led  north  along  San  Pablo  Bay  to  Vallejio,  then 
turned  southeast  on  the  San  Pablo  Railroad  to  Lathrop,  through 
one  continuous  line  of  wheat  fields,  where  millions  of  bushels  in 
sacks  lay  about  the  stations  awaiting  shipment.  Here  we  took 
dinner.  From  this  station  tourists  go  ten  miles  north  to  Stockton, 
20  east  to  Milton,  then  by  stage  40  miles  to  Calaveras  Big  trees — 
fare  $20.  Leaving  Lathrop,  we  took  a  southeast  course,  350  miles^ 
passing  up  the  Great  San  Joaquin  Valley.  This  valley  alone  is 
larger  than  many  kingdoms  of  the  old  world,  being  200  miles  in 
length,  and  30  in  width,  embracing  6,000,000  acres  of  arid  lands, 
and  1,000,000  more  of  tuiles  (marsh  land,  covered  with  bulrushes,) 
richest  in  the  world  when  reclaimed.  An  account  of  the  grain 
and  stock  raised  in  this  valley  would  appear  fabulous. 

Fifty-five  miles  from  Lathrop  brought  us  to  Merced,  an  import 
ant  town,  population,  3,000.  The  county  of  Merced  in  1876 
produced  4|  millions  bushels  of  wheat,  besides  rye,  corn,  peas,, 
beans,  potatoes,  alfalfa,  (a  species  of  clover,)  tobacco,  cotton  and 
other  crops.  These  arid  lands  in  the  state  of  nature,  produce  little 
or  nothing,  but  by  the  hardy  nerve  of  the  enterprising  eastern 
man,  a  grand  and  extensive  system  of  irrigation  has  been  brought 
into  requisition,  and  conveying  water  over  all  the  country. 

The  San  Joaquin  and  King's  River  Canal  is  100  miles  long,  68 
feet  wide,  and  six  feet  deep.  The  irrigating  ditches  fed  from  this 
alone,  would  manure  thousands  of  miles. 

The  travel  for  the  Yosemite  formerly  took  stages  here,  but  now 
they  generally  take  the  stage  at  Madeira,  33  miles  south,  over  a 
better  road  and  shorter  route,  passing  through  Mariposa  Big  Tree 
Grove.  The  stage  fare  is  the  same  either  way,  being  $45.00. 

Madeira  is  a  lively  little  place  of  300  inhabitants,  and  their 
enterprise  is  seen  far  back  into  the  mountains.  They  have  a  V 
flume  53  miles  long,  through  which  large  quantities  of  lumber  are 
floated  down  from  the  saw  mills  back  on  the  mountains.  Twelve 
miles  from  Madeira  we  crossed  the  San  Joaquin  River  at  Sycamore^ 
200  miles  from  San  Francisco,  and  left  the  valley  behind.  Yet 
the  country  is  still  flat  and  little  cultivated  to  Fresno,  10  miles^ 
representing  a  cemetery  of  round  mounds,  from  two  to  five  feet 
high.  What  they  contain  deponent  saith  not. 

The  soil  about  Fresno  inclines  to  clay,  producing,  if  irrigated,  if 
not,  it  is  like  faith  without  works,  yielding  nothing. 


47 

The  high  peaks  of  the  Sierra,  are  seen  on  the  left,  covered  with 
snow  the  year  round.  Thirty-five  miles  from  the  San  Joaquin 
River,  we  crossed  the  Kings  River,  all  the  channels  between  these 
are  dry,  water  being  raised  by  wind-mills  for  irrigation,  without 
which  not  a  kernel  of  any  thing  will  grow.  Kings  Valley  is  about 
40  miles  wide,  occupied  almost  exclusively  for  sheep  ranches.  At 
Goshen  we  struck  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad,  241  miles  from 
San  Francisco.  The  several  divisions  of  road  thus  far  passed  over, 
are  operated  by  the  Central  Pacific  Railroad. 

The  southern  road  when  completed  to  San  Francisco  will  pass 
some  miles  west  of  the  line  we  came  over ;  where  the  land  is  said 
to  produce  five  crops  of  alfalfa  a  year,  and  pumpkins  eight  feet  in 
circumference.  All  the  land  about  Goshen,  Tulare  and  Tulare 
Lake  is  rich  beyond  description,  and  will  produce  any  kind  of 
vegetable  or  plant  that  is  put  in  the  ground,  by  irrigation,  without 
which  not  a  seed  will  grow. 

A  gentleman  on  the  cars  said  to  me,  these  rich  and  fertile  lands 
are  worth  a  dollar  an  acre,  and  water  is  worth  forty  dollars.  No- 
timber  is  seen  except  what  is  planted.  He  farther  stated  that 
alfalfa  was  known  to  root  down  twenty  feet,  and  from  three  to 
four  crops  in  a  year  could  be  cut  and  sold  at  $10  per  ton. 

Ten  miles  farther  we  reached  a  barren  section  at  Tipton,  and 
pass  beyond  the  Tulare  Lake,  which  is  but  thirty  miles  long  and 
twenty-five  wide. 

This  uncultivated  waste  continues  fifty-two  miles  without  a  tree, 
shrub  or  plant,  passing  over  many  dry  runs  and  broad  irrigating 
ditches,  but  not  a  drop  of  water  could  be  seen  until  arriving  at 
Kern  River,  which  we  crossed  on  a  long  trestle  bridge,  the  banks 
being  lined  with  green  willow. 

At  Buena  Vista,  forty  miles  away,  large  quantities  of  oil  are 
found  in  holes  and  ditches  in  the  earth. 

On  striking  the  Kern  Valley  there  is  a  sudden  transition  from 
barren  waste  to  the  richest  and  most  productive  lands  on  the 
globe.  This  valley  is  very  broad  and  extends  to  the  base  of  the 
Sierras. 

The  soil  is  almost  wholly  composed  of  sedimentary  deposits, 
washed  down  from  the  mountains  in  long  ages  past.  In  no  part  of 
California,  or  as  far  as  we  know,  on  the  earth,  is  farming  carried 
on  so  extensively  as  on  these  rich  bottom  lands.  An  account  of 
the  productions  seem  so  wonderful  that  I  dare  not  relate  them  only 
as  statistics  give  them  to  me. 

Irrigation  is  very  extensive.  One  canal  is  40  miles  in  length, 
275  feet  wide,  and  eight  feet^deep.  Besides  the  canals,  there  are 
many  wells  and  windmills. 

Mr  H.  L.  Livermore,  has  one  ranche,  containing  Y,000  acres,  on 
which  are  two  flowing  artesian  wells,  one  300  feet  deep.  From 
these  wells  the  water  rises  12  feet  above  the  surface,  and  dis 
charges  over  80,000  gallons  per  day.  On  the  ranche  is  150  miles  of 
irrigating  ditches — 3,000  acres  of  the  farm  are  in  alfalfa,  from  which 
four  to  six  crops  a  year  are  cut.  He  has  another  ranche  on  which 
are  500  acres  in  alfalfa  and  3,000  in  wheat  and  barley.  These 


48 

ranches  are  stocked  with  8,000  sheep,  4,000  stock  cattle,  300  cows, 
350  horses,  100  oxen,  70  mules,  and  1,500  hogs.  He  has  a  plow, 
the  largest  in  the  world,  weighing  over  a  ton,  drawn  by  80  oxen, 
cutting  a  furrow  five  feet  wide,  and  three  feet  deep,  moving  eight 
miles  a  day.  Another  called  Sampson,  used  for  cutting  ditches, 
drawn  by  40  mules. 

Mr.  Livermore's  neighbor  has  40,000  sheep,  2,000  acres  of 
alfalfa,  raises  also  60,000  bushels  of  grain.  A  third,  for  I  will  tell 
of  no  others,  has  16,000  sheep  and  raised  in  1877  4,200  tons  of 
pumpkins  and  sweet  potatoes.  Some  of  the  former  weighing  210 
pounds  each,  and  the  latter  15  1-2  pounds.  Yet  with  all  their 
wealth,  they  are  said  not  to  be  happy.  We  have  now  passed  over 
304  miles  of  entirely  level  country  to  Sumner,  where  we  begin  to 
climb  the  foot  hills  of  the  Sierras,  with  an  up  grade  of  20  miles, 
we  come  directly  to  the  frowning  cliffs  ol  the  mountains  at 
Caliente,  and  enter  a  deep  gorge  and  are  hid  from  the  world,  and 
begin  to  climb  the  mountain  in  earnest.  We  have  now  25  miles 
to  travel  to  reach  the  summit;  with  an  up  grade  of  over  100  feet 
to  the  mile,  and  within  the  distance  will  pass  through  17  tunnels, 
aggregating  7,683  feet,  and  then  "Over  the  Loop"  which  is 
considered  one  of  the  greatest  feats  of  engineering  skill  ever 
accomplished.  The  road  passes  under  a  high  peak,  shoots  oft, 
loops  around,  returning  farther  up  the  mountain,  looping  back, 
still  rising,  and  making  another  return,  and  looping  around  a 
second  time,  shoots  up  the  mountain,  crossing  over  the  towering 
height  that  we  had  so  lately  passed  under,  and  when  eight  miles 
from  Caliente,  we  had  made  but  one  mile  of  progress  up  the  steep 
ascent,  and  could  look  down  and  see  the  town  lying  at  our  feet. 

On  climbing  up  this  rugged  eminence,  the  scenery  is  constantly 
changing,  around  rocky  points,  over  high  embankments,  through 
deep  cuts,  and  tunnel  after  tunnel,  then  deep  ravines  that  grow 
deeper  still  at  every  turn  until  they  become  a  fearful  gorge. 
Climbing,  turning  and  twisting,  to  gain  altitude  until  we  arrived  at 
a  tunnel,  and  where  we  looked  down  from  a  dizzy  height  into  an 
awful,  fearful  chasm;  yet  we  passed  on  safely  upwards,  turning 
first  to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left,  passing  tunnels  from  twelve 
to  seventeen  in  quick  succession,  brought  us  to  Tehachapi  Sum 
mit,  the  highest  point  on  the  road,  3,964  feet  above  the  sea,  on  a 
broad  plateau  of  thousands  of  acres,  near  the  bed  of  a  dry  lake 
where  salt  can  be  shoveled  up. 

Unfortunately  this  scenery  was  passed  through  in  the  night,  yet 
it  could  not  be  lost.  The  atmosphere  was  clear,  the  stars  shone 
brightly  and  I  took  a  station  on  the  rear  platform  which  I  held 
possession  of  till  2  o'clock  in  the  morning.  All  the  windings  and 
turnings  were  gracefully  made,  it  was  amusing  to  fix  my  eyes  on 
a  certain  constellation  that  appeared  in  front,  and  hold  my  atten 
tion  there,  while  it  gradually  appeared  to  move  around  and  was  at 
length  seen  in  the  rear,  but  still  moving  on,  it  appeared  in  front 
again.  From  the  summit  we  had  a  down  grade,  20  miles  to 
Majova  on  the  desert.  Majova  is  a  shipping  point  to  the  mines  east 
of  the  Sierras,  150  miles  distant,  and  350  teams  are  employed  in 


49 

freight  hauling.  From  Majova,  we  crossed  36  miles  of  uninhabited 
desert,  where  but  little  was  seen  except  rat-tail  cactus,  which 
brought  us  to  the  foot  of  Soledad  Mountain,  which  we  then  passed 
over  at  an  altitude  of  3,211  feet,  which  we  arose  and  descended 
again  in  the  distance  of  ten  miles.  In  this  mountain  is  the  Rob 
bers'  Roost,  with  wall  2,000  feet  high.  It  was  the  rendezvous  of 
Vanques'  Robber  Band,  who  was  hung  in  St.  Joe,  1875.  Five 
others  were  taken  from  a  jail  and  hung — no  questions. 

Advancing  twelve  miles  more,  the  spurs  of  the  mountain  again 
crossed  our  track,  and  we  this  time  passed  under  them,  coming  out 
at  Lang,  Thursday  morning,  October  llth. 

What  a  dismal  picture  dawned  upon  us.  Nothing  but  barren 
mountains  and  a  little  sage  bush  could  be  seen.  Passing  over 
thirteen  miles  of  this  desolation,  we  arrived  at  New  Hall  Valley, 
where  wheat  again  appeared  and  evergreen  oaks  were  scattered 
about  the  fields.  Mr.  New  Hall  owns  50,000  acres  of  land,  and 
herds  of  stock  and  droves  of  horses.  This  is  a  great  stage  centre 
also.  Looking  forward  we  beheld  a  hog's-back  ridge  of  the  San 
Fernando  Mountains  rising  3,000  feet  high  directly  before  us,  and 
no  possible  way  of  getting  over  them.  We  cast  one  shudder,  and 
before  the  second  thought  could  arise  we  were  plunged  into  total 
darkness  in  a  tunnel  6,967  feet  long.  Emerging  from  the  tunnel,  we 
struck  the  rich  valley  of  San  Fernando,  not  yet  brought  into 
cultivation ;  bearing  its  native  cactus  and  sage  bush. 

At  Andrews  are  several  oil  wells,  said  to  be  very  rich.  The 
country  now  opens  out  like  a  broad  sea,  and  a  few  miles  more 
brought  us  to  Los  Angeles  at  8  A.  M. 

This  is  an  old  Mexican  town,  situate  on  the  Los  Angeles  River, 
in  a  broad,  expansive  valley,  470  miles  southeast  of  San  Francisco. 
It  was  settled  in  1771,  and  many  of  the  old  adobe  buildings  still 
remain  that  were  erected  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago.  Their 
peculiar  appearance  and  antiquated  construction,  claimed  my  first 
attention.  The  brick  of  which  they  are  built  are  made  of  mortar 
mixed  with  straw,  twenty-four  inches  long,  fifteen  wide,  and  four 
inches  thick,  dried  in  the  sun,  the  same  as  ancient  Egyptian  brick. 
The  buildings  are  but  one  story  high,  and  occupied  now  by  the 
Chinese.  They  are  only  found  on  one  side  of  the  city,  the  residue 
being  built  up  in  modern  and  magnificent  style.  Population 
16,000.  The  shops  of  the  railroad  company  are  the  chief  manufac 
tures.  It  is  a  railroad  centre  and  has  a  great  trade.  The  city  is 
completely  embowered  in  foliage  with  vineyards  on  every  hand. 
Being  laid  out  on  such  an  expansive  plan  that  every  man  has  a  fruit 
orchard  of  his  own,  and  the  fruits  are  so  numerous  we  can  not 
mention  them  all,  yet  we  noticed  oranges,  lemons,  limes,  pome 
granates,  figs,  apples,  pears,  plums,  cherries,  peaches,  almonds, 
walnuts,  and  an  infinite  variety  of  smaller  fruits,  while  evergreens 
have  no  end — palms,  bananas,  Italian  and  Monterey,  cypress,  live 
oak,  eucalyptus,  and  that  most  lovely  and  beautiful  of  all  trees,  the 
pepper.  Flowers  and  roses  ornament  the  yards  and  lawns  the  year 
round.  It  is  just  one  continued  garden  and  vineyard,  laden  and 
bowed  down  with  the  richest  and  most  luscious  fruits — a  paradise 


50 

on  earth — a  second  Eden.  The  same  scene  of  luxury,  loveliness, 
fertility  and  beauty,  extends  to  the  south  and  east  as  far  as  the 
eye  can  reach. 

Why,  O  why,  could  not  mother  Eve  have  lingered  longer  here  ? 

My  friend  and  former  neighbor,  A.  A.  Sanders,  found  me  soon 
after  entering  the  city,  and  gave  me  a  hearty  greeting — took  me 
to  his  house,  a  snug  little  home  embowered  in  trees,  and  after 
dinner  hired  a  livery,  took  his  wile  and  daughter  in  company  with 
me  on  a»ride  to  Pasadena,  (Key  of  the  Valley),  seven  miles  north 
east  of  Los  Angeles.  Only  seven  years  ago  this  place  was 
occupied  solely  by  Garfias  and  family,  a  Spaniard,  who  owned  the 
ranche. 

A  company  of  men  from  Indiana  purchased  the  tract,  divided 
and  sub-divided  it  into  thirty  15  and  7J  acre  lots,  which  were  at 
once  taken  by  enterprising  men  of  means,  and  a  town,  in  beauty 
and  loveliness,  arose  at  once,  as  by  magic  from  the  earth,  peopled 
with  citizens  of  the  highest  class. 

They  have  an  abundance  of  water  that  is  brought  forty  miles, 
and  every  tree  and  shrub  is  irrigated.  Not  a  weed  or  spire  of 
grass  can  be  seen. 

The  neat  and  stately  mansions,  the  orange,  lemon  and  apple 
orchards,  trees  and  vines  that  cluster  around  every  dwelling,  laden 
with  their  first  fruits,  give  the  place  a  fascinating  charm,  and  we 
can  scarcely  realize  that  earth  can  be  made  so  beautiful.  The 
naked  grounds  out  of  town  are  covered  with  little  mounds, 
having  a  hole  in  the  top — habitations  of  ground  squirrels.  The 
dear  little  fellows  stood  on  their  hind  feet  erect  looking  at  us  as 
we  passed  by.  Beautiful  and  cunning  as  they  appear,  poison  is 
manufactured  for  their  destruction.  Their  burrows  are  closely 
guarded  by  owls  without,  and  rattlesnakes  within.  Seeing  one 
standing  some  way  off,  Mr.  Sanders  sent  a  portion  of  cold  lead 
after  him  to  enquire  into  his  business.  It  reached  the  ground 
under  him,  but  did  not  fully  communicate  its  message.  His  lord 
ship  turned  around  facing  us,  and  made  three  graceful  bows,  then 
ejaculated,  "Whoo  ho,  who  hooe!"  Mr.  Sanders  sent  a  second 
messenger  that  whispered  in  his  ear  danger,  he  then  changed  base. 

Returning  to  the  city,  I  took  rooms  at  the  Southern  Hotel. 


Friday,  October  12,  1883.— I  started  for  Washington  Gardens, 
in  the  city,  four  miles  distant,  passing  orange  groves  and  gardens 
all  the  way.  In  my  walk  I  stopped  at  Philip  Felthamsar's,  corner 
of  12th  and  Olive  streets;  said  he  paid  $10,000  for  three  and  one- 
half  acres  less  than  a  year  ago,  and  had  now  refused  $25,000.  The 
soil  is  a  dark,  sedimentary  substance,  four  feet  deep,  producing 
fabulously;  said  he  raised  peaches  twelve  inches  in  circumference, 
weighing  one  pound  each.  English  walnuts  eight  bushels  to  a 
tree.  Apricots  sell  at  $2  per  hundred  weight.  He  granted  me 
the  liberty  of  the  grounds.  I  picked  and  ate  what  oranges  and 
white  figs  I  desired,  (the  white  figs  are  best).  Bananas  are  grow- 


51 

ing  also.    A  neighbor  showed  me  a  sack  containing  60  pounds  of 
walnuts  that  he  gathered  from  a  tree  10  years  old. 

I  passed  on  to  the  Washington  Gardens,  introduced  myself  to 
Mr.  D.  V.  Waldron,  proprietor.  He  cordially  received  me  as  a 
stranger  and  friend,  and  very  generously  granted  me  perfect  free 
dom  to  all  the  grounds,  35  acres,  and  all  the  oranges,  apples  and 
fruit  I  wished  to  eat  or  take  away.  Inside  the  sate  a  rose  tree, 
18  inches  in  circumference,  and  a  red  wood  from  Calaveras'  grove 
first  met  my  eye,  then  a  spacious  grape  arbor,  with  the  most  de 
licious  clusters  hanging  thickly  overhead  and  pendant  all  around. 
Fig  trees  bowing  to  the  ground,  each  one  forming  a  bower  of  its 
own.  In  the  rear  of  the  building  were  bowers  of  roses,  enlivened 
by  the  song  of  mocking  birds  that  are  so  tame  as  to  light  on  the 
children's  heads,  and  sometimes  call  people  from  different  parts  of 
the  grounds  by  imitating  a  signal  whistle.  The  beautiful  pepper 
trees  stood  around  a  fountain,  with  their  boughs  drooping  and 
resting  on  the  earth.  The  leaf  of  the  tree  is  a  perfect  fern.  The 
fruit  hangs  in  shreds,  attached  to  a  long  stem,  and  resembles 
pepper.  The  apple  and  pear  trees  were  breaking  under  their  load 
of  fruit,  while  apples,  pears  and  oranges  lay  scattered  all  over  the 
ground  besides.  I  picked  up  a  fruit  of  the  lemon  specie,  fifteen 
inches  in  circumference.  Mr.  Waldron  said  he  had  shipped  seven 
car  loads  of  oranges  from  his  trees  already,  and  some  men  were 
still  picking  and  boxing.  I  was  permitted  to  climb  the  ladder  to 
the  top  of  an  orange  tree  and  pick  some  fruit  for  that  purpose. 
Returning  to  the  office  with  what  fruit  I  desired,  Mr.  Waldron 
then  took  a  tape  and  stepped  on  the  walk  to  measure  an  eucalyptus 
tree  that  was  but  seven  years  from  the  seed.  It  measured  five  feet 
in  circumference  at  the  ground,  and  rising  straight  as  a  line  eighty 
feet  in  the  air.  I  now  parted  with  my  friend  Mr.  Waldron?  and 
returned  back  to  the  more  business  portion  of  the  city. 

On  my  way  thither  I  saw  a  four  horse  team  standing  that  had 
just  brought  in  17  large  casks  full  of  grapes  to  a  Mexican  wine 
press.  They  were  emptied  into  two  square  vats  inclining 
towrards  a  tub.  Fourteen  Mexicans,  some  barefoot,  others  with 
rubbers  on,  immediately  stepped  in  and  "  trod  the  wine  press," 
but  not  alone,  the  pulp  running  off  into  the  tub.  In  the  afternoon 
I  went  to  the  Agricultural  Fair,  where  they  had  a  baby  show  that 
afternoon,  and  a  race  course  a  little  out  of  town. 

On  my  return,  I  passed  the  oldest  orange  grove  in  Los  Angeles, 
with  trees  20  or  30  feet  high  and  a  foot  through  at  the  ground. 
On  this  second  return,  I  met  iriend  Sanders  again  who  took  me  on  a 
high  eminence  and  showed  me  all  the  town,  river  and  valley,  at 
once,  embowered  in  everlasting  green,  and  cypress  adornings. 
I  returned  to  the  Southern  Hotel  for  the  night. 


On  Saturday  morning  October  13,  when  about  to  depart,  my 
friend,  A.  A.  Sanders,  Captain  2nd  Battalion  Light  Artillery, 
K.  S.  M.,  and  Chief  of  Ordnance  on  Governor  St.  John's  staff, 
gave  me  the  parting  hand  at  the  depot,  and  I  turned  my  face 
eastward.  From  Los  Angeles  we  had  a  gentle  up  grade  80  miles. 


52 

Just  beyond  the  city  bounds  we  passed  close  by  the  old  San 
Gabriel  Mission  Church.  It  is  built  of  adobe,  and  is  in  a 
dilapidated  state,  having  stood  there  100  years.  There  are  five 
bells  to  be  seen  hanging  in  the  steeple  representing  a  cross. 

The  San  Gabriel  mission  is  down  on  the  San  Gabriel  river, 
founded  in  1771,  being  the  first  one  located  of  the  21  in  California. 
These  missionary  settlements  in  the  wilderness  were  all  sent  out 
from  the  City  of  Mexico,  by  the  College  of  San  Fernando,  and 
were  all  of  the  order  of  Franciscan  Friars.  The  orange  orchards 
were  the  first  planted  in  California,  now  very  large,  yet  produce 
the  best  of  fruit.  Two  miles  from  the  station  is  L.  J.  Roses' 
orange  grove,  containing  500  acres,  planted  by  General  Stoneman. 

The  Pad  Cactus  grows  in  great  abundance  in  plats,  here  and 
there,  to  a  height  of  ten  feet.  The  fruit  has  a  pleasant  flavor, 
used  chiefly  by  the  natives.  San  Gabriel  Wine  Company  have  a 
large  establishment  a  little  farther  east,  and  at  Pomona  is  a 
reservoir  containing  3,000,000  gallons  of  water  supplied  by 
artesian  wells. 

The  country  thus  far  seems  to  be  given  to  agriculture  and  sheep 
culture,  corn,  wheat,  rye,  oats  and  barley,  are  extensively  raised ; 
and  many  hogs  are  fed  about  Monte  Spear  Pomona.  On  a  broad 
imcultivated  valley  where  nothing  grew,  we  came  up  to  a 
wrecked  train  of  merchandise.  It  was  the  most  complete  mass  of 
chaos  my  eyes  ever  beheld.  A  track  was  soon  laid  around  it, 
and  we  passed  on.  The  wreck  was  caused  by  an  axle  burning  off. 

Colton  is  57  miles  from  Los  Angeles  at  the  foot  of  the  San 
Bernando  mountains.  River  Side  Colony  is  a  little  south  of  the 
track,  comprises  8,000  acres  of  fine  land  spread  over  with 
irrigating  ditches.  A  resident  occupying  a  seat  with  me  gave  a 
glowing  account  of  its  thriving  condition. 

San  Bernando  is  four  miles  northeast  of  the  station;  settled  in 
1847,  by  Josephite  Mormons,  at  the  same  time  that  Salt  Lake 
City  was  settled  by  Brighamites.  It  is  laid  out  in  the  same 
manner  as  Salt  Lake  City,  and  all  other  Mormon  towns,  with 
water  coursing  down  its  streets,  and  embowered  in  trees,  fruits  and 
flowers.  Population  6,000.  The  valley  contains  36,000  acres  of 
the  finest  lands,  on  which  are  raised  two  crops  a  year,  first  50 
bushels  of  barley,  -then  60  of  corn  to  the  acre,  arid  5  crops  of 
alfalfa. 

At  Colton,  57  miles  from  Los  Angeles,  a  second  engine  was 
attached  to  our  train  to  help  us  up  the  mountain  on  a  grade  of 
near  100  feet  to  the  mile,  to  San  Gorgonia  on  the  summit,  a  dis 
tance  of  23  miles.  The  first  15  miles  of  our  course  was  up  a  narrow 
canon  where  nothing  of  life  can  be  seen  but  a  few  sheep,  then 
striking  Elcasco,  a  narrow  ravine,  1-4  of  a  mile  wide,  we  found  a  soil 
from  six  to  twelve  feet  deep.  Here  are  immense  quantities  of 
peaches  raised  and  a  few  grapes. 

The  ravine  becomes  more  and  more  narrow  until  at  last  it  closes 
into  a  gorge,  where  we  loose  sight  of  California  fruitfulness.  Like 
Lot's  wife,  we  could  not  help  looking  back  and  breath  farewell, 
to  all  your  loveliness  and  beauty,  farewell !  and  if  it  must  be 
forever,  "  Still,  forever  lare  the  well !  " 


53 

We  continued  up  the  gorge  with  naked  mountains  on  either 
side  shooting  up  in  all  imaginary  forms,  and  not  a  vestige  of 
green  could  be  seen  until  we  arrived  at  San  Gorgonia  on  the 
summit.  From  here  we  had  28  miles  of  down  grade  winding 
around  these  naked  cliffs,  to  reach  Seven  Palms  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  on  the  east  side.  The  water  here  is  good,  and  no  more 
is  found  till  we  reach  the  Colorado  River  at  Yuma  137  miles, 
except  such  as  is  brought  from  the  mountains  in  pipes  to  the 
stations. 

From  Seven  Palms  to  Indio,  21  miles,  (after  leaving  the  valley, 
where  are  a  few  cactus  and  low  prickly  palms,)  the  mountains 
approach  near  on  both  sides  rising  directly  from  the  sandy  desert 
in  utter  nakedness.  Not  a  specie  of  any  kind  of  vegetation  is  to 
be  seen,  and  the  valley  is  as  destitute  as  the  mountains,  presenting 
one  continuous  scene  of  sandy  desolation  every  where,  until  Indio 
is  reached,  a  little  oasis  in  the  desert,  around  the  station  of  one 
house  only,  where  we  got  dinner  by  paying  a  dollar.  After 
leaving  this  station  a  singular  phenomenon  presents  itself  to 
view.  The  water  washed  shore  of  an  extinct  sea  is  plainly 
marked  by  the  lines  of  shell  and  water  washed  pebbles  that 
encircle  it.  We  have  now  60  miles  travel  to  cross  this  basin  and 
at  times  are  266  feet  below  the  level  of  the  sea.  For  about 
15  miles  from  Indio,  rat-tail  cactus,  musquite,  and  shrub  palms 
cover  the  surface,  then  we  strike  a  salt  region  that  extends  45 
miles,  until  we  emerge  from  the  basin  through  which  not  a 
specie  of  vegetation  is  to  be  seen,  and  silent  desolation  reigns 
supreme.  This  basin  is  entirely  dry  except  25  square  miles  of 
salt,  mud  springs,  which  boil  like  so  many  cauldrons  of  soap. 
After  leaving  this  depression,  grease  wood  and  sage  again  appear, 
until  the  winding  course  of  the  Colorado  is  marked  by  its  green 
willows  and  arrived  at  Yuma,  in  Arizona,  on  the  Colorado  River, 
730  miles  from  San  Francisco,  at  8  p.  M.,  then  paid  a  dollar  for 
lodging  and  retired. 

The  city  contains  a  population  of  1,500,  mostly  Spanish  Mex 
icans  and  Indians.  Aside  from  the  railroad  shop  and  buildings, 
it  is  entirely  built  of  adobe,  (sun  dried  brick,)  and  mud  huts,  of 
only  one  story,  having  a  few  small  windows.  The  walls  are  from 
two  to  four  feet  thick.  They  have  but  one  roof,  and  that  is 
nearly  flat,  formed  by  a  layer  of  poles  covered  with  willows,  and 
two  ieet  of  dirt  put  on  top  of  it.  They  all  have  verandas  project 
ing  from  10  to  20  feet,  to  shield  them  from  the  scorching  sun, 
covered  in  the  same  way.  The  mud  houses  are  built  by  setting  four 
crotches  in  the  ground,  for  the  four  corners,  then  laying  poles  in 
these  to  support  a  roof,  which  is  made  of  dirt  as  before  spoken  of. 
The  side  walls  are  made  by  setting  willow  poles  close  together, 
one  end  in  the  ground,  and  the  other  attached  to  the  supporting 
horizontal  pole  above,  while  the  cracks  between  are  plastered  up 
with  mud.  The  doorways  serve  as  windows.  They  often  sleep 
on  the  roofs  of  their  houses,  covered  by  nature's  veil — darkness. 

Frost  and  snow  are  unknown. 

Each  house  has  a  rear  yard,  made  of  poles  set  in  the  ground, 


54 

close  together,  the  tops  running  unequal,  in  a  jagged  form,  from 
four  to  twelve  feet  high.  Four  feet  from  the  ground  they  are  all 
fastened  to  horizontal  poles  by  rawhides.  Not  a  blade  of  grass, 
or  vestige  of  vegetation  of  any  kind  is  seen  about  their  dwellings, 
and  no  cultivated  fields  are  in  the  neighborhood  nearer  than  the 
Indian  Reservation  on  the  Colorado  River,  which  is  annually 
flooded  by  the  river  as  Egypt  is  by  the  Nile.  It  then  produces 
corn,  melons  and  pumpkins. 

At  Yuma  the  river  bottom  is  merely  covered  by  willows. 

The  river  rises  in  Idaho,  passes  through  the  Grand  Canon,  with 
walls  3,500  feet  high,  watering  eight  States  in  its  course,  and 
empties  into  the  Gulf  of  California.  The  Indians  from  the  Reser 
vation  are  daily  seen  walking  or  sitting  about  the  streets  of  Yuma, 
with  painted  faces  in  barbarous  style.  Some  of  them  have  a 
heavy  scarf  of  beads  around  the  neck,  and  hair  curled  in  ringlets 
about  the  shoulders.  Their  dresses  are  nature's  covering,  with  the 
exception  of  a  knit  jacket  about  the  stomach,  a  belt  around  the 
hips,  with  a  long  red  scarf  attached,  adjusted  in  Father  Adam's 
fig  leaf  apron  style,  attached  to  the  belt  behind  and  hanging  to 
the  ground.  They  are  friendly,  notwithstanding  their  appearance. 

Fort  Yuma  is  abandoned,  and  the  Quartermaster's  Department 
is  used  only  as  a  United  States  Signal  Station.  Mercury  to-day  90 £. 


Sunday,  October  14th,  I  visited  the  deserted  convent,  it  did  not 
succeed  as  a  school  and  was  abandoned.  The  cemetery  also 
claimed  my  attention,  which  is  merely  a  sandy  spot  with  a  few 
sticks  standing  to  mark  the  graves,  and  occasionally  a  board  bear 
ing  a  Spanish  inscription. 

The  inhabitants  are  chiefly  Catholics,  and  have  the  only  place  of 
worship  in  the  town.  They  are  very  zealous  in  their  belief  and 
manifest  more  humility  and  penitence  than  churches  in  more 
popular  places.  The  edifice  is  built, of  adobe,  yet  being  superior 
to  others  in  having  a  floor,  while  many  have  only  nature's  footing, 
earth.  A  row  of  slips  was  on  either  side,  an  aisle  through  the 
center,  organ  and  altar  in  the  rear.  I  was  first  in  the  church.  All 
the  arrivals  went  through  the  usual  ceremonies  at  the  fount, 
bowing  to  the  Virgin  and  before  the  Cross.  Yet  their  disposal 
about  the  house  was  rather  peculiar.  A  young  and  cleanly  dressed 
lady  came  in  and  sat  directly  on  the  floor,  which  in  course  of  the 

fathering  was  followed  by  some  others.  Some  fell  upon  their 
nees  and  remained  there  during  a  portion  of  the  service.  One 
old  man  continued  to  count  his  beads,  while  still  another  stood 
close  behind  a  pilaster  with  his  face  to  the  wall.  A  great  number 
stood  on  the  floor  about  the  door  blessing  themselves  with  their 
motions  which  were  quicker  than  they  could  repeat  the  words, 
"  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Ghost."  As  soon  as  the  priest  entered  the 
house,  the  candles  were  lighted.  Singing  with  music  from  the 
organ,  carried  out  the  sentiment  of  the  priest's  prayer.  An 
attendant  swung  to  and  fro  a  burning  lamp  of  incense.  Alter  the 
discourse,  a  collection  was  taken  up,  during  which  time  music  was 


55 

again  performed  on  the  organ,  with  singing.  The  ceremonies  were 
all  solemn,  but  being  in  Spanish,  I  understood  not  a  word. 

Night  drew  her  mantle  around,  and  as  but  one  train  a  day 
passed  over  the  road,  I  was  forced  to  take  it  at  8  P.  M.  the  same 
time  I  got  off  the  night  before. 

The  Gila  River  is  300  miles  long,  flowing  from  the  east  and 
uniting  with  the  Colorado  River  at  Yuma.  Our  course  followed 
up  this  river  for  the  first  20  miles.  The  willows  on  its  banks  were 
occasionally  seen.  We  then  struck  directly  out  into  the  vast 
expansive  Gila  Desert,  and  for  a  hundred  miles  there  is  not  a 
habitation,  except  the  railroad  buildings  to  be  seen.  Neither  is 
ther£  on  all  this  desert,  a  bird,  beast  or  living  thing,  except  it  be 
a  few  woodpeckers  or  owls,  and  reptiles  on  which  they  feed,  and  I 
saw  none  of  those.  In  the  distance  all  the  way  on  the  right  and 
left,  sombre,  bare  and  naked  mountains,  raise  their  rocky  deso 
late  heads,  as  monuments  of  a  forsaken  land.  No  vegetation 
grows,  not  a  stream  passes,  and  no  water  is  to  be  had  on  the 
railroad  for  100  miles,  except  what  is  brought  on  the  cars  from  the 
Colorado  River  at  Yuma.  On  this  desert  104^  miles  east  of  Yuma, 
is  a  track  station  where  two  men  reside  to  look  after  the  safety  of 
the  road,  and  is  called  Painted  Rock ;  named  from  the  painted  rocks 
in  its  vicinity,  which  cover  about  an  acre  of  land,  and  are  fifty  feet 
high,  on  which  are  deeply  carved  in  the  surface,  in  Egyptian  style, 
rude  representations  of  men,  animals,  birds,  reptiles  and  all  manner 
of  things  real  and  imaginary.  This  being  the  work  of  a  prehis 
toric  age,  I  much  desired  to  witness  it ;  and  being  told  at  Yuma  it 
had  oft  been  seen  two  and  one  half  miles  from  the  station,  I 
resolved  to  stop  there,  although  it  would  be  in  the  night,  and  on 
the  desert. 

The  conductor  kindly  stopped  the  train  and  let  me  off,  saying 
the  trackman  should  flag  the  next  night  at  the  same  time,  and  I 
could  go  on  again.  A  monster  dog  disputed  my  way  to  the  house 
and  I  remained  outside  till  daylight,  then  going  to  the  door,  I  found 
two  burly  Irishmen  cooking  their  breakfast. 

I  told  them  I  desired  a  litte  information  respecting  the  locality 
of  Painted  Rock,  from  which  the  station  took  its  name,  and  also 
the  conductor  said,  they  should  flag  for  me  the  next  night  and  I 
could  go  on  again.  I  farther  remarked,  I  was  willing  to  pay  them 
for  so  doing.  The  leading  character  very  crustily  replied,  "  we 
know  nothing  about  Painted  Rock — all  the  rocks  are  painted  here. 
This  is  not  a  flag  station,  and  I  have  no  orders  to  flag  for  any 
thing  but  section  purposes,  and  I  will  flag  for  no  one."  I  then 
begged  for  liberty  to  read  a  few  lines  of  history  to  enlighten  his 
mind  on  the  subject  of  the  wonderful  scene  I  was  in  search  of.  He 
replied:  "No,  no;  we  will  hear  nothing  about  it." 

A  hand  car  stood  on  the  track  and  two  Chinamen  by  it.  They 
boarded  the  vehicle  and  wheeled  away,  saying  they  were  going  a 
mile  or  two  east.  Astonished  and  amazed,  I  looked  around  and 
found  myself  and  the  dog  in  supreme  power  of  the  station.  But 
of  what  avail  is  a  man's  sovereignty  on  a  desert  alone  ? 

I  went  out  on  the  desert,  but  destitute  of  a  guide  or  the  least 


56 

information,  returned  again.  What  could  I  do  ?  I  had  no  hope 
of  getting  on  board  if  I  waited  until  night  when  the  next  train 
would  pass,  while  16  miles  lay  before  me  to  Gila  Bend,  the  nearest 
station,  and  desert  all  the  way  without  a  drop  of  water;  having 
90o  of  heat  pouring  down  upon  my  head.  I  resolved  to  stem  the 
tide,  took  off  my  coat,  pressed  it  in  my  sachel  with  my  books, 
papers  and  lunch  making  abont  50  pounds ;  swinging  it  on  my 
back,  and  set  my  face  eastward. 

Every  half  mile  I  sat  down  to  rest,  and  would  occasionally  eat 
an  orange  to  allay  my  thirst.  Advancing  four  miles,  which 
seemed  to  be  four  times  that  distance,  I  met  the  hand-car  rejturn- 
ing.  I  asked  for  some  water.  The  boss  replied,  "I  will  give  any 
man  water,  but  will  give  nothing  else,  neither  will  I  flag  for  any 
one."  I  afterwards  learned  that  the  statute  required  all  trains  if 
flagged  to  stop  and  give  water  to  wanderers  on  the  desert.  This 
favor  he  durst  not  refuse.  The  Chinamen  then  asked  me  if  I 
would  have  some  tea.  I  drank  some  and  filled  a  little  pail  holding 
about  a  pint,  which  was  all  I  had  for  the  residue  of  the  day  and 
twelve  miles  travel.  I  blessed  those  Chinamen,  although  called 
heathen — I  bless  them  still.  I  drank  very  sparingly  of  my  tea 
until  it  was  gone,  then  returning  the  pail  to  my  sachel,  found  that 
butter  in  another  small  pail  had  melted  down  to  oil. 

When  my  apples  and  oranges  were  gone  I  had  nothing  to  allay 
my  thirst ;  so  1  kept  some  dry  tea  in  my  mouth  to  draw  moisture 
to  my  lips. 

Gila  Bend  is  named  from  a  bend  in  the  river,  where  I  arrived 
just  at  dark,  and  felt  as  though  the  moisture  from  my  frame  was 
nearly  all  exhausted ;  yet  thankful  to  my  Heavenly  Father  for  the 
preservation  of  my  strength  to  reach  that  place  in  safety.  I  drank 
more  than  two  quarts  of  hot  tea,  as  fast  as  it  could  be  steeped, 
with  a  little  water  also,  before  my  thirst  could  be  allayed. 

I  remained  at  Gila  Bend  until  2.30  in  the  morning,  when  I  got 
on  the  next  train  and  reported  to  the  conductor  who,  in  a  little 
time,  introduced  me  to  the  superintendent  who  inquired  into  the 
conduct  of  the  track  man,  then  said :  "  we  want  no  such  men  in 
our  employ — we  want  men  who  know  something,  and  when  you 
return  this  way  again,  probably  you  will  not  find  him  there." 

The  Gila  Desert  is  also  called  the  Majova  Desert,  on  which  we 
continued  until  77  miles  from  Painted  Rock,  when  we  arrived  at 
Cassa  Grande  at  four  o'clock  Tuesday  morning,  October  16. 

Undismayed  by  my  late  defeat,  I  now  resolved  to  visit  the  pre 
historic  ruins  of  Casse  Grande,  sixteen  miles  north  of  the  station, 
on  the  edge  of  the  desert  twelve  miles  from  Gila  river.  No  other 
ruins  in  Arizona  are  so  well  preserved.  These  remain  the  same  as 
they  were  300  years  ago,  when  the  Jesuit  Fathers  first  discovered 
them. 

And  even  at  that  early  date,  there  was  not  so  much  as  a  shadow 
of  tradition  among  the  natives,  that  led  to  any  information  respec 
ting  who  built  these  works;  where  the  people  came  from;  or 
whither  they  went ;  and  nothing  has  been  learned  since.  Their 
tools  of  metal,  (if  any  they  had),  with  which  they  cut  and  carved 


57 

the  stone,  have  long  ages  past  been  eaten  up  with  rust,  and  turned 
back  to  dust ;  while  nothing  now  remains  to  tell  their  tale  save 
the  hieroglyphics  on  the  Painted  Rocks,  and  other  places,  which 
no  man  can  read.  The  Papago  Indians  now  occupy  the  country. 
I  paid  $5  stage  fare,  and  at  seven  A.  M.  started  for  the  ruins.  Our 
course  led  directly  out  on  to  the  open  desert ;  after  traveling  a 
few  miles  we  crossed  the  dry,  sandy  bed  of  a  lake,  spread  out  as 
smooth  as  a  canvas. 

Passing  still  farther  on  we  reached  the  Cacti  grounds,  still  on 
the  Gila  Desert,  where  the  cactus  rear  their  heads  like  mighty 
specters  far  and  near  all  over  the  plains.  They  are  as  round  as  a 
barrel,  and  twice  as  large,  rising  from  twenty  to  sixty  feet  in  the 
air.  They  are  grooved  in  straight  lines  from  top  to  bottom,  three 
inches  apart.  They  are  the  Boss  Cacti,  the  largest  in  the  world. 
The  whole  surface  is  covered  with  sharp  thorns  two  inches  longr 
defying  approach ;  yet  the  woodpecker  bores  a  few  holes  in  them 
to  rear  its  young.  The  fruit  grows  directly  on  the  top,  completely 
spreading  over  all  the  surface,  and  is  much  prized  by  the 
natives.  We  traveled  twelve  miles  on  this  plain,  which  is  entirely 
level ;  then  stopping  to  change  horses  where  is  merely  an  adobe 
grog  shop,  and  a  miserable  apology  for  stables.  Four  miles  far 
ther  we  approached  a  section  scattered  over  with  musquite,  a 
crooked  shrub  producing  a  fruit  in  a  pod,  resembling  a  bean,  yet 
much  smaller.  It  is  gathered  in  large  quantities  for  food  by  the 
natives.  Standing  here  surrounded  by  this  crooked,  scraggly, 
shrubby  mass,  rearing  high  her  lonely  head,  is  Cassa  Grande,  of 
unknown  ages  past. 

The  stage  went  on  to  Florence.  I  wandered  amid  the  tangled 
brush,  over  ruined  heaps  of  silent  clay,  that  once  was  vocal  with 
the  voice  of  man,  now  desolate,  silent  and  alone. 

On  the  north  side  of  these  grounds  are  dry  basins  and  reservoirs 
with  a  canal  or  ditch  leading  to  the  Gila  River,  twenty  miles 
north,  wide  and  deep  enough  to  carry  water  to  water  all  the  plain, 
and  the  grading  is  so  perfect  that  it  could  not  be  improved  by  our 
most  skillful  engineers  of  modern  times.  It  is  an  unsolved  mys 
tery  why  so  much  broken  pottery  is  scattered  all  over  and  about 
these  ruins.  It  is  painted  and  striped  in  geometrical  lines,  repre 
senting  much  art,  and  some  of  it  of  a  fine  texture,  translucent, 
representing  porcelain.  The  city  was  all  built  of  concrete  earth, 
and  the  massive  mounds  of  debris  show  that  some  were  very  large. 
A  portion  of  three  only  yet  remain  standing.  I  gave  my  attention 
to  the  principal  one  which  stands  directly  square  with  the  four 
cardinal  points  of  the  compass.  It  is  63  long,  45  wide,  and  40  feet 
high,  with  walls  hve  feet  in  thickness,  plainly  representing  four 
stories. 

The  two  corners  facing  the  east  have  fallen  down,  and  measuring 
the  ridge  of  debris  indicate  that  they  were  towers  163  feet  high. 
The  roof  has  all  fallen  in,  and  how  much  of  the  top  walls,  can  only 
be  judged  from  the  immense  quantity  of  debris  inside.  The  floors 
have  also  all  fallen  down,  and  nothing  now  remains  but  the  bare 
walls,  and  the  partition  walls  inside.  The  outside  walls  were  laid 


58 

in  stratas  of  three  feet  at  a  time,  and  then  left  to  dry,  as  is  still 
visible  by  a  straight  mark  or  line  extending  across  the  building 
from  corner  to  corner.  The  inside  walls  are  made  smooth,  with 
a  hard  finish,  and  as  even  and  perpendicular  as  our  best  mechanics 
could  do  at  the  present  day. 

On  the  east  end  are  two  openings  one  on  the  first,  and  another  on 
the  second  story,  two  feet  wide  and  four  high,  the  sides  being  made 
smooth  as  all  the  openings  are,  and  nothing  on  the  side  or  bottom 
to  indicate  a  frame,  yet  over  the  top  of  all  these,  were  poles  placed 
across  to  support  the  clay  above,  which  are  now  all  gone,  yet 
the  prints  remain.  On  the  north  side  are  openings  of  the 
same  character  through  one  of  which  I  entered,  in  the 
west  end.  On  the  second  story  is  a  circular  opening  two 
feet  in  diameter,  very  smooth.  The  south  wall  has  no  openings, 
and  stands  firm  40  feet  high.  The  interior  is  walled  off  into  five 
rooms.  On  the  east  end  is  a  wall  extending  across  from  the  north 
to  the  south  side,  making  a  hall  10  feet  wide  and  45  feet  long.  On 
the  west  end  is  another  hall  of  the  same  dimension,  the  body  portion 
is  divided  into  three  apartments  by  two  walls  extending  from  the 
east  cross  wall,  to  the  west  wall,  of  the  same  character,  making 
the  three  rooms  33  by  21  feet  each.  The  thickness  of  the  walls  are 
included  in  these  measurements.  From>the  central  north  hall,  to 
the  middle  hall,  on  the  first  floor,  are  openings  15  inches  high,  and 
18  inches  long.  In  the  next  story  above  are  two  openings  of  the 
same  character  as  those  before  mentioned,  that  open  outside. 
Over  all  of  these  were  three  tier  of  sticks  laid,  now  all  gone.  On 
the  upper  stories,  from  room  to  room,  are  14  circular  openings  a 
foot  in  diameter,  made  very  smooth.  The  floors  were  made  by 
laying  poles  four  inches  in  diameter  from  wall  to  wall  a  little  dis 
tance  apart,  the  ends  embedded  in  the  mortar.  Across  these,  at 
right  angles  were  another  tier  of  smaller  poles  or  sticks  1J  inches 
in  diameter,  with  the  ends  swallow-tailed,  and  pushed  into  the 
clay.  The  niches  in  the  wall  from  which  they  have  been  dis 
placed  presents  a  smooth  surface  as  though  cut  with  a  sharp  tool, 
although  not  a  vestige  of  the  wood  could  I  find  to  demonstrate  the 
fact.  The  ends  of  the  poles  were  universally  oval  as  if  cut  with 
a  dull  tool,  which  the  cavities  in  the  wall  show,  the  wood  being 
pulled  out,  yet  a  few  bits  remain  in  the  walls  on  the  second  and 
third  stories  to  which  I  climbed  by  means  of  a  rude  zig  zag  stick, 
and  split  oif  a  few  bits  with  my  knife.  The  third  covering  for  the 
foundation  of  the  floors  was  a  layer  of  tuiles,  the  size  of  a  pipe 
stem,  and  over  all  of  these  was  spread  a  mass  of  concrete  dirt  a 
foot  in  thickness,  as  the  lines  on  the  wall  plainly  indicate. 
Nothing  in  or  about  the  building  shows  what  means  they  had  of 
ascending  from  one  story  to  the  other,  neither  can  it  be  seen  how 
they  held  the  clay  in  position  until  it  became  hardened.  It  was 
handled  with  the  naked  hand  and  punched  together  by  means  of 
a  round  stick,  as  the  prints  of  both  still  remain  in  the  hardened 
clay.  Seeing  these  finger  points  in  the  centre  of  the  wall  where 
a  portion  had  been  broken  off,  I  laid  my  hand  in  it  and  what 
thoughts  came  over  me.  Where  now  the  hand  that  made  the 


59 

finger  prints  my  fingers  fill?  Long,  long  departed,  and  age 
on  age  has  rolled  away — blotted  from  the  face  of  the  globe — lost 
to  history — forever,  and  forever,  unknown. 

Having   spent  the    day  alone  in  this  solitude  I  returned    with 
the  stage  to  the  station  at  three  p.  M. 


Wednesday  morning  October  17th  at  three  A.  M.,  I  started  on 
again,  and  a  run  of  63  miles  brought  us  [to  Tucson  to  breakfast, 
987  miles  from  San  Francisco. 

Tucson  is  the  second  oldest  town  in  the  United  States,  settled 
by  the  Jesuit  Fathers  in  1650,  whose  mission  was  to  save  the  souls 
of  the  Papago  Indians.  Tucson,  is  situated  in  the  Santa  Cruz 
Valley,  which  contains  3,000  acres  of  rich  fertile  land  if  irrigated. 
The  great  highway  from  Mexico  to  Arizona  has  crossed  this  valley, 
nearly  300  years.  I  visited  the  older  portion  of  the  town,  and 
could  not  dispute  history  in  reference  to  its  age.  I  walked  down 
into  the  bed  of  the  river,  which  is  wide  and  deep  enough  for  vessels 
to  pass  through,  yet  there  was  not  a  drop  of  water  in  it.  Its  banks 
are  thickly  studded  with  the  old  adobe  huts,  and  shanties  of  mud  ; 
still  the  abode  of  human  beings,  whose  sombre  appearance  added 
darkness  to  the  scene,  while  the  unnumbered  dogs  set  up  such  an 
unearthly  howl,  I  was  glad  to  retire  to  the  cars  again.  This  is  a 
specimen  of  former  Mexican  enterprise. 

With  the  advent  of  the  railroad  a  new  era  burst  upon  them. 
Extensive  ware-houses  were  built,  and  many  of  the  Government 
offices  are  located  there.  It  is  also  the  great  shipping  point  to  the 
mines  a  hundred  miles  each  way.  It  has  a  population  of  8,000, 
Mexicans,  Spaniards,  Indians,  English,  and  Americans.  Drunkenness 
and  carrying  weapons  are  punishable  as  a  crime.  The  Papagoes, 
suffer  their  hair  to  be  cut  straight  across  their  shoulders.  The 
Mexicans  are  as  black  as  the  Indians.  Pantano  is  another  shipping 
point,  but  is  merely  a  collection  of  adobe  huts.  A  short  distance 
from  Pantano  we  reached  a  narrow  vale  where  grass  and  running 
water  were  seen,  being  the  first  noticed  since  leaving  the 
Colorado  River,  280  miles  west.  Some  rock  cutting  had  also  been 
done,  the  first  to  break  the  monotony  of  the  extensive  desert. 
From  Pantano  it  is  18  miles  to  Benson,  at  the  junction  of  the 
Sonora  railroad  that  runs  south  to  the  Gulf  of  California.  It  is  a 
stirring  place  built  with  wood  houses  showing  enterprise,  and  is 
the  great  shipping  point  for  the  surrounding  mines,  including  the 
great  Tombstone  mine,  20  miles  away.  Previous  to  this,  adobe 
huts,  with  the  word  store,  has  been  the  most  enterprising  objects 
seen,  and  even  the  old  portion  of  the  town  of  Benson,  along  the 
river,  is  merely  a  collection  of  mud  huts,  promiscuously  thrown  in 
together,  where  the  old  Mexicans  live  a  miserable,  dirty  life,  in 
their  dark  abodes.  At  Dragoon  Summit,  20  miles  from  Benson, 
the  desert  is  virtually  left  behind,  and  smooth,  grassy  prairie  is 
spread  out  before  us,  with  high,  naked  mountains  on  each  side. 

Cachise,  chief  of  the  Apache  Indians,  made  his  headquarters  in 
these  mountains  during  the  12  years  of  his  cruel  bloodshed. 


60 

While  passing  across  this  expansive  prairie  we  ran  directly  on 
to  the  bed  of  a  dry  lake  some  miles  in  extent.  The  bottom  is 
entirely  smooth  and  covered  with  an  alkaline  substance  that 
resembles  water  in  the  distance,  and  is  called  mirage,  which 
phenomenon  has  led  so  many  weary  travelers  astray  on  the  desert. 

Wilcox  is  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  prairie,  50  miles  each 
way,  and  1,064  miles  from  San  Francisco.  This  also  is  another 
great  shipping  point  to  and  from  the  mines. 

Passing  across  these  grassy  plains,  I  noticed  large  herds  of 
stock  and  sheep,  with  fleet  little  antelopes  feeding  among  themy 
which  on  our  approach  soon  vanished  from  sight.  Passing  on  24 
miles  from  Wileox  we  arrived  at  Bowie  for  dinner,  which  is 
another  great  shipping  point.  Long  trains  of  six  mule,  teams 
were  coming  in  from  the  mines  with  ores,  to  load  back  with 
supplies. 

Roiling  on  15  miles  from  Bowie  we  crossed  the  line  into  New 
Mexico  and  passed  over  the  bed  of  another  dry  lake  that  extends 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Thence  on  to  Lordsbury,  a  shipping 
point,  to  the  celebrated  Clifton  Copper  Mines,  80  miles  north,  and 
also,  for  its  own  mining  products. 

Being  no  water  on  these  broad  plains,  the  railroad  company  dug 
for  it  here,  and  at  a  depth  of  100  feet,  struck  a  ledge  of  mineral, 
and  followed  it  500  feet.  Some  of  the  assays  run  as  high  as 
$3,700  per  ton.  They  afterwards  sold  their  claim  to  a  Wall 
Street  Gold  and  Silver  mining  company  for  $2,000,000. 

Not  a  green  plant  is  seen  here,  and  as  we  pass  away  we  cross 
the  bed  of  the  third  dry  lake.  The  prairie  now  opens  out  entirely 
level  in  one  broad  ocean  of  grass,  with  here  and  there  a  cactus 
rising  above  the  bunch  grass  around  it,  and  often  were  seen  fleet 
little  antelopes,  that  like  specters  in  the  distance,  vanished  from 
sight.  Deming  is  1,198  miles  from  San  Francisco,  at  the  junction 
of  the  Atchison,  Topeka  and  Santa  Fe  Railroad,  with  the  Southern 
Pacific. 

The  road  now  takes  a  northeasterly  course,  58  miles  to  Rincon, 
on  the  Rio  Grande  River,  1,256  miles  from  San  Francisco,  and 
strikes  a  branch  that  runs  directly  south  about  90  miles  to  El  Paso. 
Rincon  is  nearly  all  adobe,  one-story  buildings.  I  stayed  here 
over  night,  was  shown  a  room  adjoining  the  bar  room,  which  had 
an  arsenal  appearance  from  the  guns  and  cartridges  stored  therein. 


Thursday,  October  18th,  I  left  Rincon  at  5  A.  M.,  took  the 
branch  road  directly  south  to  El  Paso,  following  the  valley  of  the 
Rio  Grande  all  the  way.  Some  portions  are  irrigated  but  not 
cultivated,  and  show  a  miserable  apology  for  a  crop.  Little  mud 
cabins  from  12  to  16  feet  square,  are  scattered  along  the  river 
banks,  some  of  which  have  a  small  place  for  light,  others  have 
none  except  the  doorway,  and  yet  a  second  class,  that  are  poorer 
still,  mere  kennels,  a  few  plank  or  sticks  forming  a  tent,  and  bits  of 
canvas  thrown  over  them,  or  covered  with  bark,  and  broken  bits 
of  boards  picked  out  of  the  river. 


61 

A  few  cotton-wood  and  willows  lined  the  banks  of  the  stream, 
and  in  the  distance,  to  the  east,  the  barren  serrated  peaks  of  the 
mountains  reared  their  naked  heads.  We  arrived  at  El  Paso  at 
9  A.  M.,  and  the  first  object  that  met  our  view  was  an  hundred 
goats  before  the  station.  The  Rio  Grande  was  nearly  dry,  I 
crossed  the  pontoon  on  two  or  three  small  boats  and  found  my 
self  in  Paso  Del  Norte,  Old  Mexico,  really  a  city  built  of  nothing 
but  mud,  streets,  walls,  yards,  enclosures  and  floors,  all  the  same. 
Inhabited  solely  by  Spanish  Mexicans,  with  whom  I  could  not  talk. 

The  city  was  built  in  a  manner  to  ensure  defense  against  Indian 
attack.  On  one  of  the  principal  streets  a  block  of  mud  buildings, 
one  story  high,  with  dirt  root's,  stretch  off  at  some  length,  with 
18  doors  facing  the  street,  but  not  a  pane  of  glass  through  the 
entire  length.  In  the  rear  is  an  opening  in  the  wall  a  foot  square 
with  a  few  slats  across  it,  also  a  back  door  opening  into  an 
enclosure  made  of  mud  16  feet  high. 

The  water  is  mostly  taken  out  of  the  Rio  Grande  into  an 
irrigating  ditch,  and  carried  through  the  city.  It  has  a  muddy, 
cream  colored  appearance,  yet  they  all  use  it.  And  women  were 
lugging  it  home  in  urns  on  their  shoulders.  The  different  trades 
and  merchandise  shops  have  their  signs  out  as  in  other  cities.  I 
noted  one  read  Cassa-de-Jesus  Barela  Ama-do-barela.  The 
cathedral  is  a  large  adobe  building  with  a  spire,  in  which,  on  ropes 
hang  three  bells.  The  ascent  is  by  spiral  steps  composed  of 
flatted  logs,  the  outer  ends  fast  in  the  wall,  the  central  resting  on 
each  other.  There  are  but  five  small  windows  in  the  edifice,  and 
they  are  high  up  in  the  walls. 

Over  the  entrance  are  the  words  "  Haec-est-domus  Domine." 
Inside  on  the  right  is  the  baptismal  fount  of  "  Holy  Water."  The 
church  has  no  slips  or  seats,  the  congregation  of  course  remain 
standing  during  service. 

The  altar  is  in  the  farther  end  of  the  building,  where  candles 
were  burning,  and  before  it  devout  women  were  on  their  knees  in 
prayer.  Round  beams  carved  in  the  most  ancient  style  extend 
from  one  side  to  the  other  overhead,  being  placed  18  inches  apart. 
On  top  of  these,  in  a  diamond  shape,  laid  close  together,  is  a 
covering  of  cane  break  reeds  which  forms  the  ceiling  overhead. 
The  supporting  posts  to  the  gallery  are  carved  the  same  as  the 
beams,  in  diamonds,  with  a  rose  in  the  centre. 

This  church  has  stood  308  years.  The  Paso  Del  Norte 
Railroad  House,  is  large  and  beautiful,  the  only  thing  in  the  city 
that  shows  modern  enterprise,  and  sets  off  in  vivid  contrast  with 
the  surroundings,  of  mud  huts,  earth  floors,  mud  chimneys,  little 
open  fires,  lajtticed  windows,  and  stupid  people.  The  place  has 
no  manufactures  or  commerce,  and  a  starved  market.  There  is  no 
riding  or  teaming  in  the  streets,  yet  a  few  burro  trains  are  seen 
loaded  with  wood,  three  times  the  size  of  their  bodies.  The  chief 
business  seems  to  be  a  little  mercantile  trade ;  saloons  and 
drinking.  A  little  fruit  is  raised. 

At  the  close  of  the  day,  I  left  this  scene  of  Mexican  enterprise, 
recrossed  the  Rio  Grande,  into  Uncle  Sam's  Dominions,  got  on 


62 

board  the  cars,  and  followed  back  the  road  to  Rincon,  where  it 
struck  the  main  road  again,  and  continued  following  up  the  course 
of  the  Rio  Grande  all  night,  arriving  at  Albuquerque. 


Friday  morning,  October  19th. — The  old  town  recedes  like  dark 
ness  at  the  dawn  of  day,  and  the  bustle  of  commerce  and  business, 
drive  all  before  them.  The  soil  here  appears  to  be  somewhat 
productive,  but  they  can't  stop  to  till  it,  perseverence  must  speed 
on. 

We  passed  on  through  Bernalillo  and  a  number  of  other  villages 
that  were  mere  collections  of  huts,  but  turning  our  eyes  to  the 
right,  we  beheld  again  the  mountains  rearing  their  jagged  heads 
high  up  to  the  clouds  in  desolate  nakedness.  Many  cattle, 
however,  were  seen  along  the  river  and  hundreds  of  mules. 

We  stopped  at  Wallace  and  took  breakfast.  The  Pueblo 
Squaws  stood  around  the  depot,  offering  trinkets,  pottery,  and 
smoked  topaz  for  sale.  They  are  all  Catholics,  have  a  church  of 
their  own,  live  in  houses,  have  much  stock,  are  civilized  and  well 
to  do,  yet  they  dress  in  Indian  style.  The  snow  clad  peaks  have 
burst  upon  our  view  in  the  north  once  more,  while  the  naked, 
barren  mountains  are  close  at  hand.  We  crossed  many  dry 
channels  of  streams  where  nothing  grew.  The  Rio  Calistard  at 
Las  Cerrillos  is  also  dry.  We  have  been  for  some  time  toiling  up 
a  steep  grade  to  reach  Llama  Junction,  1,500  miles  from  San 
Francisco,  and  300  miles  from  Deming  where  we  arrived  at  9  A.  M., 
and  at  10.25  took  the  branch  road,  18  miles  to  Santa  Fe,  which  we 
reached  at  11  A.  M.,  after  winding  up  around  the  mountains  among 
the  scattering  shrubs  of  pine  and  cedar. 

Santa  Fe  is  the  oldest  recorded  town  in  the  United  States.  Its 
settlement  by  the  Aztecs  extends  back  into  the  misty  past,  where 
even  tradition  does  not  reach  it ;  but  its  known  history  commences 
in  1542,  when  it  was  taken  by  the  Spaniards.  It  had  been  the 
headquarters  of  the  Montezumas  for  hundreds  of  years  before,  as 
the  old  adobe  or  mud  buildings  bore  testimony;  the  relics  of 
which  still  remain,  and  are  occupied  by  the  same  class  of  the 
human  family,  but  by  marriage  and  intermarriage  with  the 
Spaniards,  they  have  become  so  blended  that  the  wisest  scientist 
can  not  tell  to  which  class  they  belong,  and  vulgarly  are  called 
Greasers.  All  of  this  class  now  wear  citizens  clothing,  are  num 
bered  with  the  Mexicans,  who  are  a  very  dark  race  of  beings. 
Santa  Fe  is  the  capital  of  New  Mexico,  the  most  important  and 
populous  city  in  the  territory.  It  is  a  place  where  the  works  of 
antiquity  from  the  mist  of  ages  past,  are  set  side  by  side  in 
contrast  with  modern  improvement.  Learning  and  refinement,  art 
and  science  meet  heathenism  and  barbarism  face  to  face,  and  shake 
hands. 

Every  step  in  the  line  of  progress  since  1542  has  been  indelibly 
stamped  on  some  object  in  or  around  Santa  Fe,  and  can  be  clearly 
read  to-day  in  the  surrounding  scenery.  For  centuries  Santa  Fe 
has  been  preeminent  for  learning,  culture  and  wealth.  It  was  a 


63 

large  Pueblo  town  when  the  Spaniards  entered  it,  and  the  Francis 
can  Fathers  came  with  them  as  missionaries,  to  save  the  souls  of 
the  natives.  They  built  a  small  adobe  Catholic  church  on  a  mese 
in  the  north  part  of  the  town,  which  now  lies  in  ruins.  The 
cemetery  close  by  tells  of  antiquity,  but  not  of  the  sleepers  who 
rest  below.  The  first  edifice  being  too  small,  San  Miguels'  Church 
was  built  in  1582.  It  was  used  about  100  years,  then  partially 
destroyed  in  the  Aztec  rebellion  in  1680,  of  which  mention  will 
hereafter  be'  made.  It  was  rebuilt  in  1710.  It  is  still  standing 
with  the  old  adode  church  yard  wall  in  front.  It  is  preserved  and 
retained  intact,  for  its  antiquity.  Some  ancient  pictures  are  to  be 
seen  inside.  Admission,  25  cents.  At  a  still  later  date  a  third 
church  was  built  of  adobe  and  rough  unhewn  stone  in  which  wor 
ship  is  now  held. 

Fourteen  years  ago  the  Roman  Catholic  Archbishop  commenced 
a  new  fire  proof  church,  constructing  it  entirely  of  beautiful  cut 
stone,  which  is  rapidly  approaching  completion.  It  is  so  large 
that  it  completely  surrounds  and  takes  in  the  old  edifice;  and  so 
high  that  its  arches  are  keyed  overhead,  and  when  they  worship 
in  the  old  tabernacle,  their  devotions  are  also  oifered  in  the  new 
Archbishop's  Cathedral. 

I  viewed  the  mouldering  ruins  of  the  first,  thence  on  to  the  glory 
and  magnificence  of  the  last,  all  in  close  proximity. 

The  Governor's  house  next  claimed  my  attention.  I  was  invited 
into  the  Governor's  room,  and  told  that  the  building  was  used  by 
the  Captain  General  of  New  Spain,  who  ruled  with  despotic  power 
from  the  days  of  Pedro  de  Peratta,  in  1600,  until  the  establish 
ment  of  republican  government  in  1821.  This  antiquated  palace 
is  built  of  adobe,  and  is  300  feet  long,  50  wide  and  one  story  high, 
with  the  wall  four  feet  in  thickness,  having  a  broad  veranda  in  front 
and  roofed  with  dirt,  as  all  the  old  adobe  buildings  are.  It  is 
nicely  plastered  inside  and  well  furnished. 

Leaving  the  Governor's  Palace,  I  walked  into  the  Plaza,  which 
is  located  directly  in  front.  It  comprises  an  acre  of  ground,  taste 
fully  ornamented  with  trees,  walks,  lawns  and  flowers,  also 
containing  a  beautiful  fountain  and  summer  house,  near  by  which 
stands  the  Soldiers'  Monument  of  stone,  30  feet  high.  "To  the 
Heroes  of  the  Federal  Army."  Close  by  the  side  of  the  old  San 
Miguel  Church,  stands  a  beautiful  edifice,  St.  Michaels  College, 
ruled  by  the  Christian  Brothers. 

Parting  with  these  brothers  in  friendship,  I  went  to  the  Convent 
and  Seminary,  directed  by  the  Sisters  of  Lorietta.  This  is  a  very 
beautiful  and  ornamental  edifice,  built  of  cut  stone,  and  is  sur 
rounded  by  a  number  of  acres  of  irrigated  ground  that  produces 
very  fine  fruit.  A  specimen  of  which  I  brought  to  Kirkland. 

The  Orphan  Asylum  is  a  spacious  brick  building.  The  institution 
is  under  the  direction  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity.  The  Bishop's 
Garden  is  also  a  spot  of  fruit  and  flowers,  irrigated  by  water  from 
the  Santa  Fe  River,  as  also  are  all  the  gardens  and  yards  in  town. 

The  Academy  and  University  of  New  Mexico  is  non  sectarian. 
The  former  with  others  institutions  of  learning  bring  education 
within  the  reach  of  all. 


64 

My  footsteps  led  me  to  a  large  cemetery  where  I  noticed  the 
dead  forgotten  lie,  without  head-stones  or  monuments.  I  also 
passed  over  the  grounds  of  old  Fort  Marcy,  now  in  ruins,  and  on 
to  the  military  Headquarters  of  New  Mexico,  where  soldiers  are 
stationed  and  the  buildings  and  grounds  kept  in  good  shape.  Near 
by  stands  the  Palace  Hotel  with  a  capacity  for  150  guests.  Next 
the  Aztec  relics  claimed  attention,  where  I  noticed  many  things  of 
ancient  days.  The  mealing  stones,  a  cart  200  years  old,  pottery, 
and  many  articles  of  ancient  Indian  origin,  some  of  .which  repre 
sented  the  former  gods  worshipped  by  that  race. 

From  the  store  I  went  to  the  Territorial  Exhibition  of  the 
resources  and  minerals  of  New  Mexico.  They  are  exhibited  in 
two  buildings,  the  larger  is  60  by  480  feet,  for  the  mineral  depart 
ment;  the  antiquated  articles  are  shown  in  the  other,  where  I 
noticed  a  stone  drill  ingeniously  worked  by  a  stick  and  string ;  a 
Pueblo  Indian  plow,  which  is  merely  a  piece  of  a  small  pine  shrub, 
four  feet  in  length,  formed  like  a  wedge,  with  one  limb  left  on  for  a 
handle,  to  this  a  long,  round  stick  was  attached,  by  which  it  was 
formerly  drawn  by  the  squaws.  It  merely  rooted  up  the  ground 
so  that  they  could  get  in  a  few  hills  of  corn.  I  also  noticed  a 
Latin  Bible,  printed  in  1506.  The  ancient  scale  was  a  wood 
balance  beam,  with  a  stone  in  a  sack  fastened  to  one  end  and  a 
wood  hook  at  the  other,  to  hold  the  commodity  to  be  weighed. 
The  spinning  wheel  is  made  like  a  top,  with  a  long  handle,  and  its 
whirling  motion  twisted  the  thread.  A  hollow  log  having  holes 
through  the  sides  served  as  a  corn-stalk  press  to  obtain  its  sweet 
juices  for  syrup.  Paintings  on  buckskin  from  the  old  Pecos 
Church  are  also  shown,  representing  Santa  Barbara ;  also  the  old 
chair  used  by  his  excellency,  Manuel  Alvarez  is  there. 

Passing  from  here  to  the  mineral  department,  and  viewing  the 
specimens  of  gold,  silver,  lead,  with  other  metals,  and  reading  the 
accounts  of  the  same,  it  appears  as  though  Arizona  alone  has  metals 
enough  to  supply  the  world. 

Santa  Fe  has  very  narrow  streets,  a  team  standing  crosswise 
would  block  them  up. 


Saturday,  October  20th. — At  3  p.  M.,  I  left  my  lodgings  at  P.  F. 
Hurlows'  hotel  in  Santa  Fe,  and  returned  to  the  main  line  at  Llama 
Junction,  and  started  on  again  east,  with  two  engines  attached  to 
take  us  up  the  steep  grade  and  through  the  pass.  The  scenery 
over  these  mountains  is  romantic,  weird,  sublime  and  beautiful, 
being  more  highly  prized  because  when  once  passed  we  shall  see 
no  more  like  it,  therefore  we  watched  the  deep  gorges,  rock  cut 
tings,  winding,  twisting  and  turning  of  our  course  up  the  rugged 
way,  where  every  moment  brought  some  new  object  to  our  view; 
mountain  streams  winding  their  way  down  into  grassy  vales  that 
stretch  away  between  the  verdant  hills,  of  which  we  caught  one 
glimpse  and  they  were  gone.  We  reached  Glorieta  at  7  P.  M.,  arid 
I  staid  there  over  night. 

The  Pueblo  Indians  were  so  called  because  they  lived  in  towns 


65 

built  of  mud  or  unburnt  brick  instead  of  wigwams  like  the  savage 
tribes,  and  they  appear  to  be  descendants  orthe  ancient  Egyptians. 

At  the  time  of  the  conquest  in  1542,  they  were  supposed  to 
number  among  the  hundreds  of  thousands.  They  are  now  reduced 
down  to  10,000.  The  ostensible  pretence  of  the  early  Jesuit  Fathers 
and  missionaries  was  to  Christianize  the  natives,  but  under  their 
new  regime  they  caused  the  Pueblos  to  work  in  the  mines  under 
duress,  for  the  pretended  benefit  of  the  church,  and  the  most 
inhuman  cruelties  were  imposed  upon-  them  until  1680,  when  the 
Pueblos  revolted  from  the  oppressors'  yoke.  Then  a  sanguinary 
and  bloody  scene  of  revenge  followed.  The  Spaniards  were  all 
killed  or  driven  from  the  country,  their  chapels  burned  down  and 
buildings  destroyed. 

The  Pueblos  collected  the  Church  Saints  on  the  Plaza  and 
burnt  them,  filled  up  the  mines,  forbid  the  use  of  the  Spanish 
language,  and  utterly  destroyed  everything  belonging  to  the 
Spaniards,  except  the  old  Pecos  Church,  which  was  built  in  1628, 
and  tradition  says  on  the  very  spot  where  Montezuma  was  born. 
This  they  held  sacred  for  the  reception  of  Montezuma  on  his 
second  coming,  which  they  steadfastly  believed  would  occur : 
that  he  would  come  from  the  east  in  fire  and  smoke,  with  his  face 
shining  like  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  enter  into  his  church,  and 
redeem  his  people.  "  So  great  faith  was  not  found  in  Israel,"  no, 
not  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

The  sacred  fire  was  kept  burning  day  and  night,  and  a  watch 
ing  for  his  appearing  until  the  present  century.  Century  after 
century  passed  away,  and  they  watched  and  waited  still  with  faith 
unshaken.  Warfare,  pestilence,  old  age  and  disease  gradually 
lessened  their  number;  yet,  still  they  watched  and  waited  until 
the  last  remnant  of  the  tribe  disappeared,  and  the  light  of  their 
fires  went  out  with  their  last  expiring  breath. 

The  shrine  of  Montezuma  is  laid  waste,  his  temple  is  crumbling 
back  to  dust,  and  that  faith  "that  passeth  all  understanding  "has 
perished  with  its  believers. 

The  Pueblo  of  Pecos,  once  so  populous  and  devout,  now  lies  for 
saken  upon  a  plain,  desolate  and  alone,  naught  but  a  shapeless 
mass  of  ruins. 

Will  Montezuma  ever  come  or  has  he  already  come  from  the 
east,  in  the  spirit  of  the  railroads  ?  . 

The  Pueblo  nation  held  the  country  12  years,  when  the  Spaniards 
returned  and  reduced  them  to  submission  again,  and  held  the 
country  until  the  establishment  of  the  Mexican  Republic  in  1821. 


Glorieta,  Sunday,  October  21. — Glorieta  has  no  place  for  relig 
ious  worship,  and  the  nearest  point  where  it  was  ever  held,  is  now 
the  ruins  of  the  old  Pecos  Church,  whither  I  resolved  to  go,  not- 
withtanding  it  was  seven  miles  distant. 

1  walked  six  miles  on  the  railroad  track ;  then  looking  over 
the  pines  I  saw  the  ruins  of  the  old  church  standing  on  the  open 
plain  beyond.  Passing  through  the  timber  I  reached  a  rocky  bed 


66 

having  small  round  cavities  on  its  surface  like  mortars  for  pound 
ing  corn.  The  Pueblo,  or  village,  was  built  on  a  table  land  of  a 
few  acres,  rising  slightly  above  the  surrounding  plain. 

A  rude  stone  wall,  mostly  fallen  except  the  gateway,  surrounded 
the  crest  of  this  plateau.  Inside  the  wall  aad  encircling  around 
the  same,  are  the  chaotic  ruins  of  their  once  rude  dwellings,  form 
ing  a  hollow  in  the  centre,  in  which  are  two  basins  in  a  round  form 
fifty  feet  in  diameter,  with  a  chimney  arising  from  one. 

The  dwellings  were  built  of  broken  fragments  of  stone  laid  in 
mud  in  the  rudest  style.  Their  size  was  from  eight  to  twenty  feet 
long  and  eight  feet  wide,  and  some  of  them  two  stories  high,  with 
six  feet  walls  each.  The  entrance  to  the  lower  story  was  so  small 
that  a  person  could  not  get  in  without  laying  down  and  crawling 
in.  Possibly  these  were  cellars.  The  roofs  have  all  fallen  in  save 
one.  The  floors  were  built  by  laying  split  sticks  from  wall  to 
wall,  covered  with  reeds  and  a  foot  of  dirt  on  top.  They  were 
roofed  in  the  same  way. 

I  found  one  of  their  mills,  but  could  not  bring  it.  I  noticed 
outside  the  wall,  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  piles  of  ashes,  where  fires 
long  had  burned,  and  nearly  every  rock  around  the  elevation 
shows  signs  of  fire  being  kindled  by  it.  On  one  side  I  found  little 
ovens  three  feet  long,  two  feet  wide,  and  three  feet  deep,  all  fallen 
in.  Whether  for  baking,  reducing  ore  or  for  pottery,  does  not 
appear.  Broken  pottery  is  scattered  all  over.  On  the  north  side 
of  the  hill  I  also  noticed  a  sepulchre  unearthed,  composed  of 
mortar  or  cement  a  foot  in  thickness,  and  as  large  as  a  wine  tierce. 
It  was  broken  down  and  robbed,  and  the  bones  thrown  out  to 
bleach  on  the  sand.  No  other  marks  of  burial  were  seen.  The 
ruins  of  the  old  Pecos  Church  stand  on  the  eastern  portion  of  the 
grounds.  This  antiquated  edifice  was  built  in  1628,  of  unburnt 
brick,  the  straw  in  which  is  still  visible.  Its  size  is  150  by  60  feet 
on  the  ground,  with  walls  six  feet  thick;  the  front  has  fallen  down, 
the  back  and  side  walls  are  still  standing  about  forty  feet  high. 
There  are  a  few  openings  for  light,  but  nothing  to  show  that 
windows,  doors,  or  even  floors  were  ever  used. 

Some  portions  of  timber  still  remaining  in  the  walls  show  that 
ancient  style  of  carving  peculiar  to  Catholic  churches.  While 
standing  alone  inside  in  solemn  thought,  I  could  but  ask  myself 
the  question,  where  now  the  busy  crowd  that  once  assembled  to 
worship  here?  A  low  spirit  voice  replied,  "They've  gone  to  rest, 
where  you  soon  must  go."  I  bent  the  knee  before  that  God  who 
once  was  worshiped  there,  then  turned  my  back  upon  the  lonely 
scene,  and  walked  away  leaving  all  behind. 


Monday,  October  22d. — At  2.30  A.  M.,  I  left  Glorieta,  and  passed 
on  to  Las  Vegas,  65  miles  from  Lama.  This  is  quite  a  commercial 
town  in  the  centre  of  a  mining  district,  with  a  population  of  9,000. 
Six  miles  north  of  Las  Vegas,  on  a  branch  road,  are  located  the 
celebrated  Las  Vegas  Hot  Springs,  flowing  from  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  on  the  banks  of  the  Gallinas  River,  immediately  after  it 


67 

leaves  the  canon  in  the  Spanish  range  of  mountains.  At  this 
point  nature  has  formed  a  plateau  of  thirty  acres  with  high  tower 
ing  mountains  all  around  it,  except  where  the  Gallinas  River 
enters  and  leaves  the  plateau. 

There  are  many  of  these  springs,  sixteen  of  which  have  been 
nicely  walled  up  with  cut  stones.  Their  temperature  ranges  from 
71°  to  136°  F. 

Little  had  been  done  to  improve  these  springs  until  1879,  when 
a  bath-house  was  built,  200  feet  long,  42  feet  wide,  and  two  stories 
high,  composed  of  red  granite,  and  capable  of  administering  500 
baths  daily.  A  fine  hotel  was  also  erected  at  the  same  time  and 
of  the  same  material.  Red,  white  and  gray  granite  are  found  in 
the  same  quarry  and  rest  side  by  side. 

In  1881,  the  Atchison,  Topeka  and  Santa  Fe  Railroad  Company 
purchased  the  entire  property,  erected  a  branch  road  to  the 
springs,  and  built  at  the  same  time  a  large  public  house  called  the 
Montezuma,  with  a  capacity  for  300  guests.  Rates,  three  to  four 
dollars  per  day.  The  water  supply  ot  the  town  comes  from  a  lake 
basin  three  and  a  half  miles  away. 

The  baths  are  of  every  variety,  such  as  medicated,  electric, 
vapor,  shampoon,  douche,  ring-baths,  spray,  shower  and  mud 
baths.  This  last  is  an  unheard  of  bath  at  any  other  place  on  the 
globe,  yet,  it  is  said  to  be  the  most  efficatious  of  them  all,  and  is 
administered  in  a  separate  building,  erected  for  that  purpose 
alone.  When  I  came  near  the  door  a  gentleman  invited  me  in  and 
explained  the  mode  of  procedure.  The  springs  make  their 
appearance  some  rods  from  the  stream.  The  hot  water  has  run 
through  the  mud  for  untold  ages.  The  result  is,  the  soil  has 
absorbed  the  chemical  properties  of  the  water,  and  the  application 
of  it  to  the  body  effects  the  cure.  The  mud  is  about  six  feet  deep, 
and  resembles  lard  and  lampblack  mixed  together.  It  is  shoveled 
up  and  reduced  in  a  bath  tub  to  the  thickness  of  cream,  after  which 
the  patient  is  plunged  in  and  remains  as  long  as  he  choose,  then  is 
washed  off  with  clear  water,  and  appears  in  his  native  color,  a 
white  man  again. 

I  was  shown  around  a  beautiful  Club  House,  and  told  that  the 
inhabitants  there  all  gambled. 

The  surroundings  of  the  town  are  wild ;  perpendicular  walls  rise 
up  beside  the  railroad  track,  and  lofty  blades  shoot  up  from  their 
summits.  Before  leaving  I  amused  myself  by  testing  the  heat  of 
the  water  from  nature's  fountain.  Being  provided  with  the 
necessary  apparatus,  I  put  my  tea  to  drawing,  it  steaped  very 
nicely,  and  the  other  articles  were  made  palatable  in  a  short  time. 
Next  I  gave  my  attention  to  the  natives  of  the  vicinity.  Walk 
ing  down  the  track  a  mile,  three  Mexican  adobe  towns  were  in 
eight,  standing  on  the  open  plain  a  little  back  from  the  river. 
Round  about  these  dwellings  and  towns  not  a  tree,  shrub,  plant, 
vine  or  green  blade  of  any  kind  could  be  seen,  nothing  visible 
about  them  but  utter  nakedness.  How  do  those  people  live  ? 

I  was  walking  in  a  town  of  Penitents,  therefore  I  noticed  them 
the  more.  The  town  contains  about  fifty  houses,  nestling  under 


68 

the  brow  of  a  hill,  and  are  variously  constructed.  Some  are  laid 
up  with  rough  bits  of  stone  placed  in  mud,  poles  put  closely 
together  over  the  top,  and  covered  with  mud.  Others  are 
built  by  setting  four  crotches  in  the  ground  with  poles  laid 
in  them,  and  other  poles  standing  perpendicular,  close  together 
all  around,  and  plastered  up  with  mud ;  then  roofed  the 
same  as  the  others.  A  third  kind  are  built  of  round  poles  laid  in 
cob  house  form,  plastered  with  mud  and  roofed  the  same.  A  few 
of  the  better  class  are  built  of  adobe,  yet  dirt  forms  the  roofs  of 
all,  and  native  earth  their  floors.  They  have  but  one  small,  low 
doorway  for  entrance.  Some  have  one  pane  of  glass  for  light,  but 
more  have  none.  Inside  is  a  little  rude  bunk.  Their  few  dishes 
and  clothing  are  in  a  box,  hang  on  the  wall,  or  lie  on  the  ground. 
A  small  fire-place  is  in  one  corner  with  a  little  mud  chimney 
through  the  roof.  Their  ovens  are  of  clay,  built  outside,  and  are 
the  most  healthy  looking  things  about  them. 

They  are  very  dark  complexion,  wearing  long,  black  hair,  and 
hats  with  broad  brims,  having  one  or  two  braided  bands  encircling 
them,  and  when  they  travel  on  horseback,  they  are  always  seen  to 
go  on  a  canter.  No  business  of  any  kind  is  done  in  the  town 
except  what  is  done  at  one  or  two  saloons.  Corn  meal  and  water 
unleavened  and  baked,  called  Tortier  Cake,  forms  their  bread,  and 
red-pepper  with  meat  and  vegetables  their  luxury. 

These  penitents  are  seceding  Catholics,  believing  in  self-persecu 
tion  for  their  sins,  and  during  Easter,  called  Passion  Week,  intense 
religious  enthusiasm  exists. 

On  top  of  the  mountain  is  a  large  cross  where  the  leader  of  their 
sect  was  buried ;  he  not  being  considered  orthodox,  was  not  per 
mitted  to  be  buried  on  Holy  Ground.  They  crawl  up  to  it, 
dragging  their  naked  persons  over  the  rocks  and  lashing  each 
other  with  rattail  thorny  cactus,  until  their  bodies  are  covered 
with  blood.  So  much  for  their  religious  faith.  It  is  said  that 
these  towns  are  lordships,  and  belong  to  one  man,  who  owns 
flocks  and  herds,  and  mines,  making  the  people  virtually  slaves,  or 
wholly  dependent  on  his  will.  Such  towns  are  called  Peons.  The 
inhabitants  are  ignorant,  superstitious  and  always  in  debt  to  their 
lords  and  not  suffered  to  depart  as  long  as  they  are  in  debt,  which 
appears  to  be  always  the  case. 

The  native  production  are  Pinyons,  a  small  burr  nut  from  the 
Pinyon  Pine  tree,  and  cactus,  from  which  wine  of  a  poor  quality  is 
sometimes  made.  I  lett  the  Springs  and  came  down  to  the  main 
line  at  Las  Vegas  at  7  P.  M.,  and  retired — 363  miles  from  Den 
ning,  and  785  miles  from  Kansas  City. 


Tuesday,  the  23d,  at  3.45  A.  M.,  we  rolled  directly  out  on  to  a 
vast,  expansive,  grassy  plain,  reaching  Wagon  Mound  at  daylight, 
and  passing  the  little  adobe  town  of  Springer  at  sunrise,  where  we 
saw  large  herds  of  cattle  scattered  over  the  plains.  On  the  left,  in 
the  distance,  the  lofty  Rockies  rear  their  mighty  heads,  white  with 
snow. 


69 

Our  early  transit  over  the  plains  started  up  two  droves  of  ante 
lopes,  that  fled  for  life.  We  stopped  at  Raton  for  breakfast,  after 
which  two  powerful  engines  were  attached  to  the  train  and  puffed 
and  tugged  us  up  to  the  pass,  directly  into  the  bowels  of  the 
mountains.  A  screech  of  the  whistle  signaled  good-bye  to  the 
rear  engine,  and  we  were  at  once  plunged  into  the  Raton  Tunnel, 
and  entered  Colorado  on  a  down  grade,  and  passed  786  feet  in 
darkness,  then  emerged  into  daylight  on  the  other  side,  to  see  far 
down  below  our  feet  the  vast,  expanded  plain  spread  out  before  us 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  The  down  grade  is  very  steep,  but 
by  twisting,  winding  and  turning  we  at  length  reached  the  plain 
below  to  find  only  a  few  adobe  huts,  mud  plastered  cabins,  and 
dug-outs  in  the  side-hill  at  a  place  called  Starkville,  where  there 
are  immense  mines  of  coal,  lying  under  the  mountains  on  the  left, 
where  we  passed  around  a  high,  castle  rock,  and  stopped  and  took 
dinner  at  Trinidad,  situated  at  the  foot  of  another  high  peak  over 
looking  the  town.  The  valley  widens  out  with  a  rich  soil,  six  feet 
deep  covered  with  sage  bush,  and  producing  well  where  irrigated. 
From  Trinidad  we  launched  directly  out  into  that  vast  ocean  of 
grassy  prairie  so  lately  viewed  from  the  top  of  the  mountain 
behind.  The  sage  bush  now  disappears,  and  to  it,  good-bye — we 
have  inhaled  its  odors  long  enough.  So  to,  those  dingy,  mudbuilt 
Mexican  towns,  are  left  behind. 

And  to  the  rugged  massive  towering  cliffs,  deep  gorged 
through  mountains  high,  that  move  the  heart  and  thrill  the  nerves, 
inspiring  awe  for  Him  who  gave  them  form,  to  all,  farewell ! 
farewell ! 

Herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep  are  now  in  order,  and  are 
scattered  far  and  near  upon  the  open  plain ;  but  no  barns  or  sheds 
are  seen  to  shelter  them. 

Swiftly  rolling  on  across  the  plains,  we  at  length  reached  La 
Junta,  on  the  Arkansas  River  at  the  junction  of  the  Denver  and 
Rio  Grande  Railroad,  with  the  Atchinson,  Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe 
Railroad.  Here  we  turned  our  course  directly  east,  following 
the  river  till  10  P.  M.,  when  we  crossed  the  line  into  Kan 
sas,  still  continuing  on  the  river  banks  all  night,  brought  us  to 
Nickerson,  Wednesday  morning,  October  24.  This  is  a  smart 
little  town,  but  now,  is  flooded  with  rain,  the  first  I  have  seen 
for  six  weeks.  Thus  far  the  State  is  little  else  than  a  grassy  plain, 
in  its  native  wildness. 

We  still  continued  down  the  water  course  to  Halsted  where  it 
turned  at  right  angle  to  the  south  and  left  us  to  strike  off  east  on 
this  boundless  expanse  of  plain,  which  now  begins  to  show  signs 
of  cultivation. 

Stacks  of  hay  appear  and  fall  sown  wheat  is  seen  on  the 
ground.  We  stopped  at  Newtown  for  breakfast,  where  peaches, 
quinces,  and  other  fruits  grow,  yet  corn  and  wheat  are  the 
principal  products  of  the  land,  while  nature  has  richly  provided 
them  with  an  extensive  quarry  of  red  sandstone  for  buildings, 
which  extends  to  Crawford. 

The   remaining   150   miles  to  Kansas  City  is  level,  with  a  rieh 


70 

productive  soil,  and  well  cultivated  as  the  stacks  of  hay  and  grain 
attest,  being  no  barns.  Coal  is  found  in  abundance,  the  shipments 
amounting  to  $6,000,000  annually. 


I  arrived  at  Topeka,  Kansas,  2.30  p.  M.  This  is  a  large  city  of 
24,000  inhabitants,  regularly  laid  out,  yet  the  streets  are  not 
paved,  and  in  a  wet  time  are  intolerable.  The  town  embraces  nine 
square  miles  of  surface,  and  has  the  shops  where  all  the  cars  used 
on  the  Atchinson,  Topeka  and  Santa  Fe  Railroad  are  made ;  it  also 
contains  many  fine  buidings,  and  all  the  societies  and  institutions 
of  the  day.  The  State  House  is  being  constructed  after  the 
pattern  of  the  Capitol  at  Washington. 

An  iron  bridge  900  feet  long  connects  the  two  parts  of  the  city, 
spanning  the  Kansas  River,  which  is  not  navigable.  Some  parks 
are  laid  out,  and  on  one  is  a  Prairie  Dog  Town.  These  little  pets 
resemble  the  dog  and  squirrel,  have  short  legs,  and  short  tails, 
but  when  they  eat  they  sit  on  their  hind  feet  and  hold  their  food 
in  their  fore  paws.  They  are  very  tame  and  came  up  and  smelt 
of  our  fingers  for  food,  but  refused  to  be  handled. 

On  the  approach  of  a  dog  they  all  dodge  back  into  their 
burrows,  but  soon  come  to  the  light  again,  and  peek  out,  and  if 
the  adversary  is  gone,  they  are  out  at  once  and  seen  on  the  lawn, 
barking,  feeding  and  at  play. 

The  soil  on  these  expanded  plains  is  deep  and  rich,  producing 
large  crops  when  cultivated.  Apples  are  very  fi,ne  and  high 
colored.  Various  kinds  of  sweet  potatoes  are  produced,  as  well  as 
all  the  common  vegetables,  cereals  and  grains.  Soft  coal  is 
abundant  at  $4  per  ton. 


Thursday,  October  25,  at  four  in  the  afternoon,  I  pursued  my 
journey,  reaching  Kansas  City  at  eight  in  the  evening,  and  took 
rooms  at  the  United  States  Hotel.  This  is  one  of  the  largest  cities 
of  the  west,  with  a  population  of  70,000,  comprising  an  upper  and 
lower  town.  The  lower  town  is  a  great  railroad  centre,  and  the 
emporium  of  the  city. 

This  portion  is  down  on  the  river  bottoms,  and  in  a  wet  time  is 
one  perfect  sea  of  slop  and  mud.  The  stock  yards  were  filled 
with  stock  and  swine  unnumbered,  and  the  manufactures  of 
wagons  and  agricultural  implements  are  immense.  The  iron 
structure  across  the  Kansas  River  is  600  feet  long,  having  no 
draw.  A  short  distance  below  the  bridge  the  waters  of  the 
Kansas  River  unite  with  those  of  the  Missouri.  A  cable  road 
connects  the  upper  and  lower  town.  The  upper  town  is 
regularly  laid  out,  containing  many  fine  buildings,  chiefly  brick, 
manufactured  on  the  ground,  and  ready  for  use  as  soon  as 
moulded  and  baked.  An  immense  army  are  employed  in  the 
business  cutting  down  the  banks  30  or  40  feet,  and  utilizing  the 
material  for  brick. 


n 

They  work  with  astonishing  alacrity.  Twelve  men  in  10  hours, 
will  turn  out  from  raw  material  21,400  brick.  The  upper  streets 
of  the  city  are  being  improved  by  laying  concrete  crushed  stone  a 
foot  thick  over  them,  covering  the  same  with  sand,  on  which  cedar 
blocks  seven  inches  in  length  are  closely  set,  the  crevices  being 
filled  with  fine  gravel  and  sand. 

Before  leaving  the  city  I  ascended  the  high  bluffs  that  rise 
abruptly  from  the  Missouri  River,  and  my  eyes  wandered  up  and 
down  this  mighty  and  majestic  stream. 

It  slowly  curls  its  way  along  in  grand  sublimity,  yet  it  has  no 
transparent  beauty,  for  its  waters  are  always  sluggish  and  of  a  roily 
cream  color.  The  railroad  bridge  that  crosses  the  river  at  this 
point  is  built  of  iron,  14,000  feet  long,  and  the  portion  that  crosses 
the  bed  of  the  stream  comprises  seven  spans,  and  cost  one  and 
a  half  million  dollars.  Strange  as  it  may  appear  to  a  Yankee,  this 
river  is  the  recipient  of  all  the  manure  and  refuse  of  the  city. 

Kansas  City,  the  eastern  terminal  of  the  Atchison,  Topeka  and 
Santa  Fe  Railroad,  is  2,259  miles  east  from  San  Francisco,  and  on 
the  west  line  of  the  State  of  Missouri. 

At  6.20  P.  M.  I  took  a  seat  in  a  Palace  Reclining  Chair  Car,  on 
the  Alton  and  Chicago  Railroad  and  started  east  to  cross  the  State 
of  Missouri.  These  cars  are  said  to  be  the  finest  in  the  world. 
One  pane  of  glass  comprises  each  window,  and  the  intermediate 
spaces  are  set  with  mirrors,  forming  a  glass  palace.  The  reclining 
chairs  are  upholstered'  in  the  richest  style,  and  can  be  adjusted  to 
suit  the  convenience  of  the  occupant.  The  best  of  meals  are  also 
served  on  board  at  75  cents. 

The  rich  productiveness  and  fertility  of  the  soil  of  Missouri,  has 
so  long  been  known,  that  I  reclined  in  one  of  the  chairs  to  rest 
and  pased  it  by,  and  on  the  morning  of  Saturday,  October  27th,  I 
arrived  in  St.  Louis. 


St.  Louis  is  one  of  the  most  populous  cities  of  the  west,  contain 
ing  360,000  inhabitants.  A  great  railroad  center;  ten  lines  come 
in  to  the  Union  Depot,  The  street  crossings  are  all  bridged  over 
head.  It  has  a  fine  State  House,  Court  House  and  Jail,  and 
many  fine  and  lofty  buildings,  but  generally  aside  from  its  parks, 
it  presents  a  scene  of  business  bustle  and  confusion.  The  buildings 
are  brick  and  the  smoke,  ashes  and  dust,  that  have  settled  upon 
them  give  to  the  whole  a  dingy  appearance;  and  the  streets  being 
low,  they  are  flooded  with  mud. 

I  took  the  street  cars  to  the  Zoological  Gardens  five  miles  dis 
tant,  through  densely  populated,  narrow,  muddy  streets ;  but  noth 
ing  of  interest  presented  itself.  Then  I  turned  my  attention  to  the 
massive  iron  railroad  bridge  that  crosses  the  Mississippi  River. 
It  is  a  collossal  work,  and  astonishing  to  behold  how  man  can 
overcome  apparent  insurmountable  difficulties.  The  bridge  is  suf 
ficiently  high  for  all  the  river  crafts  to  pass  under  it;  and  the 
foundations  are  said  to  rest  90  feet  below  high  water  mark. 


72 

The  iron  network  of  which  the  three  broad  arches  are  composed, 
that  span  the  water  surface,  is  truly  immense.  It  is  also  a  double 
bridge,  street  cars,  and  street  travel  on  top,  and  railroad  cars  under. 
Including  the  approaches  I  should  consider  it  to  be  a  mile  in 
length.  I  crossed  it  twice  by  daylight  on  the  cars,  and  walked 
out  to  the  centre  of  it  on  foot,  and  looked  down  on  that  Mighty 
Mother  %f  waters  of  North  America. 

The  banks  of  the  river  are  so  high  that  as  soon  as  the  cars  leave 
the  approaches  they  at  once  plunge  into  a  tunnel,  and  pass  for 
a  mile  and  a  quarter  directly  under  the  very  heart  of  the  city, 
making  an  egress  at  the  Union  Depot. 

The  redeeming  qualities  and  beauty  of  St.  Louis,  are  more  vividly 
manifest  in  the  beauty  and  neatness  of  her  parks.  I  took  a  street 
car  and  passed  out  five  miles  in  an  opposite  direction  from  the  other 
route,  but  through  the  same  class  of  muddy  streets,  until  I  arrived 
at  the  City  Park,  containing  275  acres.  I  there  found  the  Elysian 
Fields.  Marble  columns  shot  up  on  each  side  the  gateway  bear 
ing  lion-like  statuary  on  top,  while  others  bore  creatures  imaginary. 
Passing  through  I  found  the  park  house  a  very  fine  building  and 
some  offices.  The  grounds  are  laid  out  in  the  most  tasty  style 
with  walks,  lawns  and  drives.  The  drives  run  in  every  imag 
inary  direction  over  the  grounds,  and  are  composed  of  white  stone, 
crushed  very  fine,  looking  quite  neat  and  beautiful.  Streams  of 
water  pass  through  the  grounds,  skirted  with  weeping  willows.  A 
number  of  exquisite  and  substantial  summer  houses  are  scattered 
about  the  lawn  supporting  bugle  honey  suckle,  and  various  clam 
bering  vines.  A  crystal  fountain  of  water  adorns  the  central 
portion.  Humboldt's  Statue  stands  on  a  high  pedestal  by  the  side 
of  the  main  drive ;  and  various  others  are  seen  about  the  lawns. 
Evergreen  trees  and  shrubs  are  scattered  here  and  there  all  over, 
representing  every  conceivable  form  and  shape  of  training.  Pines, 
cedars,  firs,  and  many  foreign  trees  I  could  not  name ;  one  bearing 
a  round  leaf  six  feet  in  circumference  having  no  branches,  merely  a 
single  stem.  An  evergreen  hedge  encloses  the  whole,  and  Osage 
oranges  hung  on  the  trees  and  lay  on  the  ground  about  it.  At 
the  upper  end  of  the  park  I  entered  the  conservatory  and  found 
a  rare  collection  of  tropical,  and  semi-tropical  plants  and  flowers. 
I  left  this  beautiful  scene,  passing  out  at  the  upper  gateway  into 
the  open  country,  and  looked  away  in  the  distance  over  a  land  of 
corn,  but  not  of  wine.  I  next  entered  the  private  grounds  and 
gardens  of  the  great  land  holder,  Henry  Shaw.  It  comprises  40 
acres,  surrounded  by  a  high  stone  wall.  It  is  all  laid  out  in  plats 
with  drives;  and  the  intermediate  space  is  set  with  roses  and 
flowers  of  endless  variety.  A  summer  house  occupies  the  centre, 
and  walks  diverge  from  it  in  all  directions  through  the  flowery 
lawns.  The  conservatory  is  quite  extensive,  containing  many 
tropical  plants ;  among  which  I  noticed  Pandurus  vedilus,  a  specie 
of  palm,  and  the  Philadendron  pertusum,  also  the  Monstera  De- 
licosa ;  all  new  varieties  to  me.  Near  the  pallatial  residence  is  a 
small  gothic  structure  on  which  I  read,  "O  Lord,  how  manifold 
thy  works — in  wisdom  hast  Thou  made  them  all."  St.  Louis  is 
2,645  miles  east  of  San  Francisco. 


73 

At  6.55  P.  M.,  I  took  the  cars  again,  passed  through  the  tunnel 
under  the  city  coming  out  at  the  bridge,  and  crossed  over  the 
Mississippi  River  to  East  St.  Louis,  in  the  State  of  Illinois ;  then 
pursuing  my  journey,  still  eastward  on  the  Indianapolis  and  St. 
Louis  Railroad  across  the  State  of  Illinois,  into  the  State  of  In 
diana,  arriving  at  Indianapolis  to  breakfast  at  the  National  Hotel, 
Sunday  morning,  Oct.  28th,  1883,  2,908  miles  from  San  Francisco. 


Although  it  had  rained  three  days,  yet  I  found  Indianapolis  a  clean 
city,  regular  in  form,  with  well  paved  streets  and  fine  flag  walks, 
a  very  large  commercial  city  containing  100,000  inhabitants. 

The  buildings  are  large,  commodious  and  fine;  many  being  built 
of  iron  and  stone,  are  quite  imposing.  The  State  has  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  age,  and  is  building  a  State  Capitol  of  cut  stone,  on 
which  three  years'  labor  has  been  spent,  and  will  require  five  more 
to  finish  it  up.  It  comprises  an  entire  block.  Catalpa,  soft  maple 
and  elm  trees,  adorn  their  streets  and  parks.  In  churches,  for 
number  and  beauty,  Brooklyn  here  finds  a  rival.  I  give  them  as 
they  appear  on  the  city  register: 

Methodist  Episcopal,  23;  Presbyterian,  14;  Baptist,  13;  Catho 
lic,  7 ;  Christian,  6  ;  Lutheran,  6 ;  Episcopal,  5  ;  German  Reformed, 
3 ;  Congregational,  2 ;  Hebrew,  2  ;  Episcopal  Reformed,  1 ;  Evan 
gelical  Association,  1 ;  Friends,  2 ;  Methodist  Protestant,  1 ;  Swed- 
enborgian,  1;  United  Brethren,  1,  and  the  United  Presbyterian,  1; 
being  88  in  all. 

At  10.30  the  doors  being  open,  I  was  given  a  seat  in  Grace 
Church.  Text,  John  12,  32d.  Preaching  good  and  music  fine. 
After  service  the  Methodist  brethren  extended  to  me  the  hand  of 
fellowship,  and  invited  me  to  call  again.  I  realized  that  God 
dwelt  in  the  hearts  of  his  people  everywhere. 

Returning  past  the  door  of  the  Third  Presbyterian  Church,  fine 
music  within  caused  me  to  linger,  and  I  wTas  seated  there.  The 
first  question  to  the  class  was,  which  is  the  greatest  commandment 
of  all  ?  Would  men  but  practice  the  sentiment,  as  readily  as  the 
interrogation  was  answered,  earth  would  be  a  terrestial  paradise. 

Indianapolis  has  also  many  humane  institutions.  The  Asylum 
for  the  Blind  is  a  large,  imposing  cut-stone  edifice,  in  the  center  of 
a  square  set  with  beautiful  trees,  shrubs  and  flowers,  the  happy 
inmates  can  never  see,  although  they  walk  among  them,  in  threes 
and  fives,  clasped  arm  in  arm,  singing  cheerfully. 

The  fine  structures,  long,  broad,  straight  streets  embowered  in 
trees,  render  this  place  one  of  the  loveliest  cities  of  the  west,  yet  I 
could  not  tarry  long. 


Monday,  October  29th,  at  4  A.  M.,  I  moved  forward  again  on  the 
Cincinnati  and  Indianapolis  Railroad,  over  a  beautiful  rich  country 
of  level  land,  without  a  hill,  dale,  or  mountain  to  break  the  monot 
ony  of  the  scene,  with  naught  but  one  continuous  stretching  on,  on, 
of  agricultural  producing  soil.  Corn,  wheat,  cereals,  hay,  cattle, 


sheep,  and  hogs,  are  all  important  articles  of  commerce.  About 
10  A.  M.,  at  Union  City,  we  passed  the  State  line  into  Ohio,  where 
the  soil  is  no  less  fertile,  but  timber  abounds,  which  reminded  me 
of  my  childhood  days,  especially  when  passing  the  many  log  cabins 
scattered  along  the  way. 

The  Ohio  farmer  lays  out  little  for  gaudy  show.  His  chief  pride 
and  glory  is  in  well  tilled  lands,  enclosed  with  strong,  high  fences, 
bountiful  crops,  safely  stored,  and  flocks  and  herds  of  various 
kinds  scattered  over  his  field,  all  kept  securely  under  his  own  guar 
dian  care. 

In  the  afternoon  we  passed  Galion,  a  fine  town  of  6,000  inhabit 
ants  and  a  railroad  centre,  arriving  at  Cleveland,  on  Lake  Erie,  at 
5  p.  M.,  3,191  miles  from  San  Francisco,  and  took  rooms  at  the 
Lake  Shore  House.  The  first  thing  that  attracted  my  attention 
was  the  electric  lights  that  illuminate  the  city.  There  are  four  in 
number,  each  one  displaying  eight  lights  in  a  circle,  resting  on  top 
of  a  staff  of  boiler  iron,  the  lower  end  of  which  rest  again  on  a 
massive  flag-stone  twenty  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth.  They 
then  rise  from  the  surface  into  the  air  respectively  as  follows:  The 
first,  200  feet;  second,  240;  third,  250,  and  the  fourth,  260  feet, 
making  the  darkest  night  brilliant  as  the  rising  day. 

This  city  has  many  natural  advantages  that  add  much  to  its 
beauty  and  scenery.  Situated  as  it  is  on  the  banks  of  the  lake, 
whose  restless  waters  are  ever  pure  and  transparent  to  gaze  upon, 
inspiring  the  soul  with  awe  and  reverence.  Its  elevated  position 
makes  it  arid  and  healthful,  while  the  crystal  streams  of  water 
flowing  through  its  suburbs  add  much  to  its  romantic  beauty. 

The  city  is  very  handsomely  built,  with  broad,  well  paved  streets 
and  flag  walks,  all  neat  and  clean,  beautified  by  airy  grounds, 
lawns,  and  parks,  set  with  lovely  flowers,  while  the  whole  is  em 
bowered  with  overshadowing  trees.  Superior  street  is  the  great 
business  thoroughfare  of  the  city.  On  this  street  are  two  fine 
parks,  set  with  trees  and  flowers.  One  of  these  contains  a  foun 
tain  near  which  stands  a  massive  stone  monument  to  the  memory 
of  the  hero  of  Lake  Erie,  Commodore  Oliver  Hazard  Perry,  his 
statue  being  represented  as  the  crowning  figure.  On  the  opposite 
side  of  the  park  is  a  speaker's  stand,  composed  of  finely-cut  stone, 
well  elevated  and  spacious  enough  on  top  to  seat  one  hundred  dig 
nitaries,  having  also  the  means  of  gas  and  awnings.  Encircling 
these  grounds  are  the  finest  buildings  in  the  city. 

The  postoifice  comprises  an  entire  block,  being  built  of  cut  stone, 
doing  honor  to  the  nation.  The  Forest  City  House,  Court  House, 
and  Theatre  are  large  imposing  structures  of  cut  stone,  and  the 
jail  well  represents  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  built.  Although 
these  buildings  express  grandeur,  strength  and  durability,  yet  the 
stone  of  which  they  are  composed  shows  a  dinginess,  and  they  can 
not  be  said  to  be  extremely  beautiful. 


Tuesday,  October  30th,  I  walked  to  the  shore  of  the  lake.     All 
the  railroad  lines  follow  close  by  the  water's  edge.     The  land  rises 


75 

back  from  this  to  the  table  lands  on  which  the  city  stands  200  feet 
above.  Along  the  crest  are  located  beautiful  residences.  The 
sloping  portion  in  front  down  to  the  railroad  lines  is  one  continu 
ous  park  for  miles,  set  with  shrubs,  plants  and  flowers,  interspersed 
with  lawns,  through  which  walks  and  drives  meander  round,  and 
limpid  streams  with  cascades  fair  add  still  more  loveliness  to  the 
scene. 

At  8  A.  M.  I  took  the  street  car  for  Lake  View  Cemetery,  six 
miles  distant,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  The  line  of  travel  rep 
resented  a  park  appearance  all  the  way,  on  which  we  passed  the 
residence  of  Mrs.  Garfield,  a  fine  mansion  built  of  pressed  brick. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  are  a  fine  park  and  conservatory. 
After  some  changes  we  arrived  at  the  ground,  and  a  broad  field  of 
300  acres  comprising  the  cemetery,  was  spread  out  before  us,  con 
taining  hills,  vales,  lawns,  streams  of  water,  cascades,  fountains, 
ponds  with  swan  and  wild  flowls  floating  on  them ;  also  many 
trees,  shrubs,  plants,  vines  and  flowers,  besides  the  many  tombs, 
costly  and  magnificent  monuments  which  sadly  tell  of  friends  who 
heedeth  not,  but  calmly  sleep  below. 

The  first  attraction  on  entering  the  ground  was  to  visit  the 
tomb  where  temporarily  rest  the  remains  of  President  Garfield. 

Passing  up  a  vale  by  many  tombs  I  at  length  came  to  Scofield's 
new  tomb,  a  fine  and  beautiful  structure.  The  relief  soldiers  came 
at  10  A.  M.,  went  through  the  manual  of  arms  and  tactics,  dis 
charged  the  former  guard,  there  being  12  soldiers  in  all,  fully 
armed,  who  march  to  and  fro  before  the  sepulchre  night  and  day. 

The  outer  door  being  opened  displayed  a  casket  inside  in  which 
the  remains  of  our  beloved  President 'rest,  with  a  handful  of  wheat 
lying  by  its  side,  and  a  wreath  of  the  same  resting  on  the  lid, 
while  palms  of  victory  encircle  it  round,  and  a  wreath  of  precious 
flowers  adorns  the  front. 

On  the  upper  portion  of  the  grounds,  in  a  glass  house  is  the  car 
on  which  he  was  brought  to  the  cemetry,  with  all  its  sable 
adornments  on  it,  of  crape,  palls,  plumes,  and  everlastings, 
canopied  with  the  national  flag,  stars  and  stripes. 

On  the  highest  portion  of  the  ground,  overlooking  the  lake  in 
its  ever  restless  motion,  is  being  graded  and  prepared  a  site  for  the 
foundation  of  the  Garfield  monument.  Among  the  many  fine 
granite  statues  on  those  grounds,  that  of  Rebecca  L.,  wife  of  Joseph 
H.  Wade,  stands  forth  the  most  conspicuous,  it  rests  on  a  base  10 
feet  square,  2  1-2  feet  in  thickness.  The  second  base,  die  and  cap, 
add  about  14  feet  to  the  height,  on  this  stands  a  spire  rising  40  or 
50  feet  in  the  air,  crowned  by  an  angelic  figure,  standing  erect, 
with  the  right  arm  stretched  upwards,  and  finger  pointing  to 
Heaven. 

Leaving  the  mansions  of  the  dead,  I  returned  to  the  city  and 
crossed  the  viaduct  over  the  Caughoga  River  and  valley.  This 
bridge  is  a  mile  in  length,  and  80  feet  high,  resting  on  massive 
stone  arches  all  the  way. 

The  chimneys  from  the  immense  manufactures  below,  send  up  a 
cloud  of  smoke  that  darkens  the  air.  The  old  town  on  the  west 


76 

side  has  few  charms,  yet  I  noticed  one  fine  park,  and  a  rustic 
fountain.  From  here  I  repaired  to  the  Lake  Shore  House  for  the 
night. 


Wednesday  morning,  October  31st,  I  moved  on  again  eastward 
on  the  Lake  Shore  road,  by  the  side  of  the  beautiful  lake.  On 
reaching  Ashtabula,  the  train  slowly  moved  across  the  gorge, 
down  into  which  I  looked,  where  once  that  fatal  accident  occurred, 
and  the  blood  chilled  in  my  veins,  as  fancy  brought  to  my  ears 
the  moans  and  groans  of  the  scorched  and  dying,  still  pleading  in 
anguish  from  the  ground.  A  little  farther  along  we  passed  Erie  in 
Pennsylvania,  situated  on  the  lake,  a  large  business  town  of  35,000 
inhabitants,  and  also  Dunkirk  with  a  population  of  9,000, 
arriving  at  Buffalo  in  the  afternoon,  3,374  miles  from  the  Pacific 
Coast. 

The  business  transactions  of  Buffalo  are  so  well  understood 
that  it  would  be  superfluous  even  to  mention  them,  therefore,  I 
passed  on  23  miles  farther  to  Niagara  Falls  and  rested  for  the 
night  at  a  very  quiet  Temperance  House. 


Thursday,  November  1st,  I  paid  my  entrance  fee  at  the  Goat 
Island  Gate,  50  cents,  and  walked  out  upon  the  iron  bridge  which 
is  360  feet  long,  and  spans  the  American  Channel  just  above  the 
falls.  From  this  bridge  I  had  a  commanding  view  of  the  rapids  on 
the  American  side.  Chained  as  by  magic  to  the  spot,  I  watched 
the  ever  dashing,  constant-  changing,  madly  rushing  foaming 
waves;  in  their  chaotic  confusion,  until  they  passed  beneath  my 
feet,  and  plunged  headlong  into  the  awful  gulf  below. 

Crossing  this  bridge  I  reached  Bath  Island  which  is  the  largest 
of  a  group  of  15  that  lie  in  the  American  Channel,  directly  at  the 
head  of  the  falls. 

The  paper  mill  on  this  island  is  the  largest  in  the  State.  A  few 
feet  distant  is  a  small  island  called  "  Lovers'  Retreat."  Passing 
over  a  short  iron  bridge  I  stood  on  Goat  Island.  The  island  is 
owned  by  the  Porter  family,  who  have  held  it  since  1818.  It  con 
tains  sixty-one  acres  of  land  in  all  its  primeval  beauty  and  loveli 
ness — a  Sylvan  bower,  a  native  wooded  isle,  romantic  as  it  was 
when  nature's  plastic  hand  first  gave  it  form.  It  divides  the  river 
into  two  parts,  causing  the  two  falls.  A  carriage-road  encircles 
the  island. 

Turning  to  the  right  and  following  around  beneath  the  forest 
trees,  one-fourth  of  a  mile  down  the  rapids,  I  came  to  the  Hog's 
Back,  the  extreme  point  of  the  island,  some  feet  above  the  flow 
ing  current.  Passing  down  to  the  water's  edge  and  crossing  a 
short  bridge,  I  reached  Luna  Island,  which  lies  on  the  brink  of  the 
precipice,  separating  a  portion  of  water  from  the  main  stream 
called  the  Center  Fall,  and  forming  the  cave  of  the  winds  below. 

From  Luna  Island  Mr.  Addington  and  Miss  Annetta  Deforest 
passed  over  the  falls  and  were  lost. 


77 

Retracing  to  the  main  island,  I  looked  back  under  the  precipice 
of  Luna  Island,  and  saw  three  Giant  Profiles,  of  rock  formation. 
A  few  steps  brought  me  to  the  Cave  of  the  Wind's  Dressing- 
rooms,  where  a  fee  of  one  dollar  is  charged  to  enter  this  cave  with 
a  guide.  I  passed  down  the  spiral  way  of  the  Biddle  stairs,  per 
pendicular  eighty  feet,  and  reached  the  broken,  fallen  fragments  of 
rock,  which  are  still  105  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  water  below, 
into  which  Sam  Patch  made  his  famous  leap  in  1829. 

From  the  foot  of  Biddle's  Stairs  I  turned  towards  the  Cave  of 
the  Wind,  through  which  I  once  passed  five  times  in  one  morning. 
The  projecting  rocks  above,  from  which  the  waterfalls,  form  the  cave, 
and  the  compression  of  the  atmosphere  causes  the  dashing  and 
whirling  of  the  spray,  like  a  most  violent  thunder  storm. 

From  the  Biddle  Stairs  to  the  Canada  Fall  the  way  has  been 
obstructed  by  slides  and  fallen  portions  of  rock,  and  now  no  path 
leads  that  way,  yet  still  I  picked  along,  over,  under  and  around 
the  fallen  masses,  and  across  steep,  shelly  points,  until  I  approached 
to  the  very  foot  of  the  great  cataract,  and  could  look  up  its  entire 
height  and  behold  its  grandeur. 

Although  my  brow  was  laved  with  spray  and  my  clothes 
drenched  with  the  fallen  water,  yet  the  sight  well  repaid  the  toil. 
Turning  back  and  ascending  the  stairs,  I  walked  along  the  brink 
of  the  precipice  to  the  top  of  the  fall  above,  directly  over  where  I 
had  so  lately  been  below. 

Chained  liere  in  awful  silence;  I  viewed  the 
Inspiring  scene:  my  words  can  ne'er  express 
Awakened  thought,  and  feeling  deep,  that  stirred 
Mine  inmost  soul.     Steadfastly  gazing  on 
The  scene  sublime;  and  yet  how  terrible  ! 
The  roaring  waters  speak  Jehovah's  name. 
The  maddened  flood,  rolling  its  waters  down; 
Surging  and  foaming  as  it  rushes  on 
In  wrathful  fury. 

Wave  after  wave  behind; 
In  quick  succession  press  the  waves  before, 
And  drive  them  on  until  they  reach  the  brink, 
Then  headlong  plunge  into  the  gulf  beneath. 
Reluctant  still  to  go,  the  struggling  spray 
Attempts  to  rise,  then  melting  down  to  tears, 
Falls  back  upon  itself,  and  sinks  again. 
Still  o'er  those  restless,  troubled  waves  below; 
The  Bow  of  Promise  shines,  for  God  is  there. 

Turning  from  this  thrilling  scene  and  walking  up  the  bank  a 
little  way,  I  came  to  the  Three  Sister  Island,  which  I  found  my 
way  to  by  means  of  three  iron  bridges,  and  from  the  most  distant 
one  I  took  my  last  view  of  the  rapids. 


78 

Returning  to  the  main  island  and  advancing  a  little  farther,  I 
arrived  at  the  head  of  Goat  Island  that  divides  the  river.  From 
this  point,  looking  up  the  river,  can  be  seen  Navy  Island,  from 
which,  on  the  29th  of  December,  1837,  the  ill-fated  Caroline  was 
cut  loose  from  her  moorings,  set  on  flames  and  sent  over  the  falls. 

The  head  of  Goat  Island  is  noted  in  history  as  being  the  place 
where  the  Hermit  Francis  Abbott  once  lived.  He  was  carried 
over  the  falls  June  10th,  1841. 

Recrossing  the  bridge  to  the  main  land,  and  a  faw  steps  down 
brought  me  to  Prospect  Park,  where  a  gate  fee  of  25  cents  is 
received.  From  the  plateau  to  the  water's  edge  below  is  an 
inclined  railway,  fare  down  25  cents*  From  here  visitors  can 
go  behind  the  falling  sheet  under  the  shadow  of  the  rock  for  one 
dollar. 

Twenty-five  cents  more  is  demanded  to  be  ferried  across  the 
channel,  over  water  192  feet  deep  to  the  Canada  shore  where  we 
find  a  carriage  in  waiting  to  convey  guests  to  the  Clifton  House  to 
dinner,  after  which  the  museum  must  be  visited,  then  being 
provided  with  water-proof  dresses  and  a  guide  for  which  one 
dollar  more  is  paid,  to  pass  under  Table  Rock  and  Horse-shoe  Fall. 

When  emerging  from  this  watery  cavern  and  changing  rig,  we 
find  a  carriage  in  waiting  to  convey  us  to  the  Burning  Springs  a 
mile  up  the  river.  Fare  50  cents,  entrance  50  cents  added. 

Near  this  Burning  Spring  July  5th,  1814,  the  battle  of  Chippewa 
was  fought,  and  ten  days  later,  one  and  a  half  miles  from  the  falls, 
was  fought  the  great  battle  of  the  war  of  1814,  at  Lundy's  Lane.  A 
high  tower  or  observatory  is  located  at  this  place,  and  the  cost  to 
and  from  is  the  same  as  to  the  Burning  Spring. 

Two  miles  below,  on  the  Canada  side,  is  located  an  inclined  ele 
vator  to  enable  visitors  to  descend  to  the  Whirlpool  Rapids  ;  fare 
fifty  cents,  and  fifty  cents  more  admits  one  the  Whirlpool  itself. 

One  of  the  most  daring  exploits  ever  performed  by  man  trans 
pired  at  the  Rapids  June  6th,  1861,  when  the  adventurous  Robin 
son  and  two  others  rode  safely  through  on  the  Maid  of  the  Mist. 

There  are  three  bridges  across  this  mighty  gorge.  The  oldest  is 
two  miles  below  the  falls,  a  railroad  suspension  bridge,  822  feet  span, 
258  feet  above  water.  The  new  Suspension  Bridge  is  one-quarter 
of  a  mile  below  the  falls.  It  is  the  longest  bridge  of  the  kind  in 
the  world ;  its  roadway  is  1,300  feet  in  length,  its  cables  1,800 
feet,  and  is  190  feet  above  water.  The  third  is  the  new  Cantilever 
Bridge  for  the  Canada  Southern  Railway.  Its  entire  length  is  895 
feet.  The  length  of  cantilevers  are  375  and  395  feet,  the  fixed 
span  125,  and  the  clear  span  across  the  river  500  feet.  The  stone 
abutments  are  50  feet  high,  and  the  steel  towers  resting  on  them 
130  feet  high,  and  the  clear  span  is  245  feet  above  the  river.  This 
is  the  only  completed  bridge  of  the  kind  in  America,  if  not  in  the 
world.  The  bridge  was  being  constructed  when  I  was  there  and 
appeared  the  most  daring  piece  of  work  I  ever  saw  performed. 
Men  suspended  on  a  staging  240  feet  in  the  open  air,  with  a  boil 
ing  flood  250  feet  deep  beneath  them. 


79 

The  day  having  closed  I  repaired  to  the  cars  and  was  soon  on  my 
way  to  Utica,  where  I  arrived  at  midnight,  and  on  Friday,  Novem 
ber  2d,  1883,  I  safely  arrived  at  home. 


In  conclusion,  I  will  merely  say,  this  little  volume  is  bestowed 
on  my  friends  in  its  naked  self,  without  preamble  or  apology,  to 
stand  by  its  own  merits,  or  fall  by  its  demerits,  as  the  case 
may  be,  being  the  first  effort  of  the  kind  in  a  lifetime,  and  per- 
adventure  may  be  the  last. 

L.  D.  LUKE, 

Kirkland,  Oneida  County,  N.  Y. 


